jfttltrre Storaft 

Collect i«R 




SALMON-FISHING ON THE 
GRAND CASCAPEDIA 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/salmonfishingongOOdavi 



.-. 



A Favorite Place 



SALMON-FISHING ON THE 
GRAND CASCAPEDIA 



BY </ 

y 

EDMUND W^ DAYIS 



PRINTED FOR PRIVATE DISTRIBUTION 
1904 



Of this edition there have heen 
printed one hundred copies, of 
which this is No. 






LIBRARY of CONGRESS] 


Two Copies Received 1 


APR 12 19 


Ccpyrighl Entrj 


CLASS Q- XXc. No. 


COPY A 



Copyright, 1904, by 
Edmund W. Davis 



TO MY WIFE 

WHOSE GENTLENESS AND SWEET MANNER 
ADD CHARM TO THE CAMP 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Salmon-fishing on the Grand Cascapedia ... 3 

The River 6 

The Rod 10 

The Reel 12 

The Line 14 

The Flies 16 

The Leaders, or Casts 24 

The Clothes 27 

The Casting 30 

The Fishing 41 

Hooking the Salmon 53 

Changing Flies 56 

The Weather ■ . . .61 

The Logs .65 

The Salmon 72 

The Runs and Varieties 75 

The Rises . .78 

Do Salmon Hear? 82 

The Kelts 86 

The Rocks 88 

vii 



J 



PAGE 

A Trip to Red Camp ....... 90 

The Second Day 103 

The Third Day 119 

The Fourth Day 129 

Three Weeks Later 132 

The Club Water 137 

Conclusion 143 



LIST OF ILLUSTKATIONS 

A Favorite Place Frontispiece 

Running down from Lazy Bogan . Facing page 8 

Killing a Salmon at Lazy Bogan . . . .10 

Flies . 18 

Flies 20 

Flies 22 

Limestone Pool 32 

Lower Part of Limestone 50 

Her First Forty-four-pound Salmon . . . .70 

The Fifty-two-pound Salmon 72 

Red Camp 92 

Guarding Salmon 94 

Our Canoemen 98 

Suffolk Mixer 106 

Two Days' Fishing 116 

The Cascapedia Club-house in the Distance . . 120 

Red Camp Pool 126 

Harrison, the River-goddess, and William . . 134 

The Slide 140 

ix 



SALMON-FISHING 




SALMON-FISHING ON THE 
GRAND CASCAPEDIA 

HAVE been asked so many times to 
write my experience as regards salmon- 
fishing that perhaps these few lines 
may be of benefit to friends who are 
learning the grand art, and of some interest to 
those who are already accomplished in it — for an 
art it surely is. 

I advise all who intend taking up salmon-fishing 
to read Dr. Weir Mitchell's book, " When All the 
Woods Are Green." It is a delightful story, and 
has a chapter or two on salmon-killing. But as 
all of us may not have a companion so charming 
on our fishing trips as the hero of this book, we 
will content ourselves here with the killing of the 
fish. The part of the book which appeals to me 
most strongly is the dedication : 

THE FRIEND OF MANY YEARS, — 
THE COMPANION OF MANY SUMMERS. 

Who but a lover of nature and a keen sportsman 

would have thought of the few words so lovingly 

3 



expressed — "The Companion of Many Summers " ! 
Surely they must have reminded him of the days 
and nights they had passed together on some 
grand old river in the forests of Canada — the 
shooting of the rapids, the camp-fires at night, the 
life in the woods, all of which go to make up that 
indescribable something which all true sportsmen 
love. I have often thought, as I stood by my camp- 
fire and gazed at the stars through the clear atmo- 
sphere of the Northern skies, how few persons 
there are who know the great happiness there is 
in the solitude of a life in the wilderness. Here 
one sees the swift, icy brooks tumbling down from 
the lakes which lie amid the green-clad hills stretch- 
ing far away to the north — the little brooks which 
are torrents in spring, and go to make up the 
mighty Cascapedia, far-famed for its lordly salmon. 
They, too, love the river; for do they not come each 
year and go far to the head waters to seek the quiet 
pools whose banks are lined with the sweet-scented 
linnsBa, where undisturbed they can whisper to each 
other their tales of love ? 

I remember one day, as I was going up the river 
to take my turn at certain pools, I saw the doctor 
sitting in his canoe, reading a book. As I ap- 
proached him he shouted: "Hello, Davis! Any 
luck?" I told him I had not fished, but was 
on my way to Middle Camp. " I hope you have 
had some sport f " 

4 



" No," he replied j " it is too clear. Am waiting 
till later in the day. But what does it matter f Is 
it not grand out on the river ? Look at the leaves 
on the trees — how they glisten ! What beautiful 
shades ! One never gets tired here ; there is so 
much to see. How peaceful and restful it all 
seems ! " And he, though getting no salmon, was 
content passing his time in studying the life of the 
forest and the different objects about him, all of 
which help to form the true angler. My advice to 
all is to follow in his footsteps. 




THE RIVER 

tAR away in the wilderness of Quebec 
lies a still and placid sheet of water 
whose surface is often disturbed by- 
salmon fortunate in having reached 
this quiet and peaceful resting-place. A stream 
named the Lake Branch flows from this lake a dis- 
tance of eighteen miles before joining its com- 
panion (the Salmon Branch), whose source is 
many miles farther north. The meeting of these 
two waters is the beginning of the Cascapedia, but 
as it rushes onward to the sea many cold little 
brooks add their tribute. At the junction of these 
branches is the celebrated pool called "The 
Forks " ; here, in July, one can usually see many 
salmon resting. From this same pool, after two 
o'clock in the day, I beached fourteen fish, keeping 
only five of the largest : the rest, after my man 
had removed the hook, were held under water 
with their heads up-stream until they were able to 
resist the current ; then a slight poke in the side 
sent them darting away as lively as when rushing 
6 



for the fly. These salmon were from sixteen to 
thirty-five pounds in weight. 

A short distance below " The Forks " the river 
forms another good pool where one is sure of 
many rises. " Lazy Bogan " — perhaps the most 
famous part of the river — is a narrow stretch 
flowing through a flat country, and a fine place for 
salmon. One day on this water, casting from the 
shore, I took thirteen fish, returning seven. But 
I do not consider it much sport to kill salmon 
in these pools. The river is narrow; it is their 
breeding-ground: and here they should be left 
undisturbed. 

The Cascapedia Club, which controls the rights 
with the exception of about fifteen miles from the 
mouth, now very wisely prohibits fishing on this 
part, keeping it entirely for breeding purposes. 
After leaving Lazy Bogan the country becomes 
more interesting, and as you approach Indian 
Falls the river, running swiftly, forms large, deep 
pools; huge mountains rising from the water's 
edge make the scenery most picturesque. There 
is a bit of danger while running the falls, owing 
to the many sunken rocks just below the surface 
whose tops are invisible ; but with good canoe- 
men one usually passes in safety. From the falls 
down to the settlement is one continuous panorama 
of beautiful scenes ; and the river, having such a 
tremendous drop from its source to the mouth, is 
7 



one of the swiftest and most interesting in all 
Canada to the angler. 

The Cascapedia Club-house, situated on a knoll 
surrounded by mountains, is most charmingly 
located. From the piazza there is a delightful 
view of the country, and salmon may be seen 
leaping in the pools below. Opposite is the Escu- 
minac, a small river flowing into the Cascapedia. 
Formerly it contained many salmon, but saw- 
mills, nets, and spears have done their work of 
extermination, and now it is impossible for a fish 
to run up the stream, owing to a dam having been 
built across. 

Eight miles above the club-house is a three-rod 
station, and at sixteen miles accommodation for 
two ; so the few members are not crowded in their 
fishing. From the club-house to the second sta- 
tion is one wild, magnificent sight: high moun- 
tains, long stretches of swiftly running water ter- 
minating in dark pools, the rapids, and the sweet 
little flowers nestling at the water's edge, make a 
picture of loveliness which is most beautiful and 
dear to the angler. 

Among the few fishing lodges scattered along 
the banks of the remaining part of the river is 
the Princess Louise Cottage, now owned by Mr. 
Barnes, of Boston, who controls some very good 
water, including a part of the celebrated Princess 
Pool. The river is well guarded, and if protection 
8 



KUNNING DOWN PROM LAZY BOGAN 



is continued the number of salmon should increase 
yearly. May their numbers never be less ! 

For thirteen summers the Grand Cascapedia has 
been my home. Each year it grows dearer and 
dearer, and my only thought during the long 
winter months shall always be, " Will spring ever 
come, so that I may again visit this restful home 
in the Northern woods?" Such a beautiful 
country is not an accident. God must have cre- 
ated this wonderful wilderness, where all is happi- 
ness, where all is peace. 




THE ROD 

TAPERINGr piece of wood as delicate 
in appearance and bending as easily as 
some tall, slight reed gently swayed by 
the winds. No wonder we love to ca- 
ress and fondle it, for has it not proved a stanch 
and true friend on many trying occasions I 

In selecting a rod, please bear in mind that I am 
suggesting one for Canadian rivers only. For 
fishing the waters of Ireland and Scotland a 
longer and stiffer rod is required, as I believe most 
of the casting is from the shore ; but not having 
had any personal experience on these rivers, I am 
not prepared to offer any advice. For my own 
fishing I prefer fifteen feet of the best greenheart, 
spliced at the centre only. The tip should be a 
little stiffer and the butt a trifle smaller than one 
usually sees in a salmon-rod. If the rod is prop- 
erly made it will bend like a piece of steel from 
butt to tip while playing the salmon. Notice how 
beautifully it bends backward and forward when 
you make the cast — no doubling of the tip, only a 
slight curve as the line is thrown back ; then, by a 
quick and gentle turn of the wrists, it springs for- 
10 



Killing a Salmon at Lazy Bogan 







fc» 



ward, sending the line straight as an arrow, while 
the fly, falling softly, alights like a snowflake on 
the water. With a rod of this description one can 
lift his line much easier, with less exertion, and has 
better control. Dalzell, of St. John, New Bruns- 
wick, is a good workman, and turns these rods out 
well. Of course there is difference of opinion; 
but I have had greater pleasure with a rod of this 
kind than with many another I have tried. "When 
the water is high and one is not obliged to be too 
particular as regards his casts, almost any rod will 
answer; but in low, clear water, when the wily 
old kings are shy and it is hard to entice them, 
then the best weapon is required. Some prefer a 
light rod and others a heavy one, but the principle 
should be the same in both. 

The Forrest rod, made in Scotland, is very pop- 
ular among American anglers, although I find it 
too supple at the tip and too stuf at the butt. 
The split bamboo has found favor in the eyes of 
many, but my experience with it has not been 
satisfactory. I know a little woman — and a clever 
angler, too — who may be seen every year, during 
the months of June and July, casting her fly as 
gracefully and killing her fish as quickly with her 
little cane rod as any old veteran of the sport, and 
I am told this same rod has to its credit a hundred 
or more salmon. Of course, nothing pleases this 
little lady but the split bamboo. 
11 




THE KEEL 

'HIS piece of workmanship is dear to all 
anglers ; for does it not day after day 
merrily sing its melodious songs ! And 
the louder it sings the sweeter its notes, 
for we know then that its welcome voice will soon 
cease, having lulled to sleep one of the wakeful 
spirits of the deep. 

One cannot be too particular concerning the reel. 
It should be large enough to hold seventy yards 
of good, strong bass-line and fifty yards of salmon- 
line, which must be spliced with the bass-line. 

I use the Vom Hofe 1 reels only, as I have always 
found them to keep in excellent running order, 
and in many years of fishing I have never had an 
over-run. Should a salmon, rushing down the 
rapids, suddenly stop, and an over-run take place, 
good-by, Mr. Salmon ! If he is seized again with 
the same desire to continue his mad career, one 
good feature about the reel is, you can alter the 
tension of the drag ; and when small flies are used 

* Edward Vom Hofe, Fulton Street, New York. 

12 



it is better to do this, for with a lighter tension the 
fly is less liable to pull out, and that would be 
disappointing. 

The reel should be held by a plate fastened 
to the rod not more than six or six and a half 
inches from the lower end of the butt. If it is 
placed any higher, one would be obliged to reach 
farther to grasp the rod above the reel. This 
would naturally cause the body to bend forward, 
making an awkward position for the angler and at 
the same time tiring the right arm. The reel, 
when casting, should be beneath the rod, with the 
handle to the left, for in this position it balances 
the rod better ; but when playing the fish always 
reverse the position, bringing the reel on top of 
the rod, with the handle to the right. 

There are many good salmon-reels of different 
makes and of a much cheaper grade than the one 
above mentioned. As I see many anglers using 
them, they evidently answer the purpose ; but not 
having tried any, I can only vouch for the Yom 
Hofe. One should always have the reel well filled, 
as it runs much better ; and do not fail occasionally 
to put a drop or two of oil on the bearing; by 
so doing the reel will last longer and give better 
satisfaction. Above all things, keep the reel clean ; 
a dirty reel reflects upon the angler as a rusty 
gun on the sportsman. 



13 




THE LINE 

'HE line should be, as I have just said, 
one hundred and twenty yards in total 
length. One may use the whole sal- 
mon-line, but this is unnecessary, as 
the one for bass does just as well to help fill up the 
reel ; besides, it has not so much resistance in the 
water. When the river is high, any dark-colored 
salmon-line of medium size will do, either tapered 
or not, as one prefers. My experience has been 
that both cast equally well. In low, clear water I 
am confident one will be more successful using a 
small black line, as it attracts less attention than 
one of lighter color, and is not so apt to disturb 
the fish. This is a much-disputed question among 
anglers, but as I have been very successful with 
the small black line, I certainly should advise its 
use. It is rather difficult to see while playing the 
fish as they dart toward the shore in the shade of 
the trees, and especially when fishing at night; 
but one should be able to forgive this fault if it 
brings better success. 

14 



I have seen salmon killed late in the season 
with a line almost white and large enough to kill 
a codfish. This will sometimes happen, but I am 
quite sure the person who accomplished the feat 
was born under a lucky star. I beg my friends 
not to try it; it is not clean fishing, it is not 
correct fishing. I have also seen a person fishing 
salmon with a book in one hand, an umbrella over 
the shoulders, and the rod resting on the knees, 
evidently waiting for a nibble ; strange to say, the 
nibble came, the salmon was hooked and killed. 
This happened in one of my best pools, and pre- 
vious to the landing of this eccentric fish the pool 
had been whipped by a person well up in the art 
without any result. It only goes to show that 
sometimes salmon have whims, like ourselves: 
you coax them, and they won't ; let them alone, 
and they will. 



15 




THE FLIES 

>HESE beautiful specimens of crafts- 
man's art, composed of feathers 
brought from the jungles of India and 
the deep forests of the tropics, are 
no doubt the most important part of our out- 
fit. How seductive these little feathers, both 
gaudy and sombre, must be as they are drawn 
across the pool to lead to destruction the wise old 
fellows resting so quietly beneath ! Indeed, they 
are equally seductive to us — for do we not, as we 
are about to leave the shop (having said good-by to 
them), hesitate, and return to gaze fondly again 
upon their beauty ? We buy more, when we do not 
need them ; like the salmon, we have gazed once 
too often and are taken at last. This fate always 
happens to me — and I suppose I shall continue, 
year after year, to be led astray by the spell of 
these fascinating and hypnotic allurements. 

"When buying your flies, be sure that the point 
of the hook is nearly upright. If it inclines too 
much toward the shank, as many do, and espe- 
cially the No. 4 and No. 6 double, it will not hook 
16 



the fish as well, and is more liable to tear out. It 
is a good plan to bend the small-size hooks a little 
so the points will turn out ; I find by so doing fewer 
fish are lost. 

The flies made by Forrest & Sons, Kelso, Scot- 
land, are generally used, and it is best to import 
them direct from their house. They are beautifully 
tied, and we seldom hear of the hook pulling but. 
I have seen this happen, but not often ; in one in- 
stance, when a friend of mine was playing a very 
large fish, the line suddenly came back with only 
the loop attached to the leader. It would be very 
annoying to have it occur just as you are playing 
the largest salmon you have ever seen ; but some- 
times accidents will happen, however careful one 
may be. Always examine closely the loop before 
attaching the fly to the leader, especially if the fly 
has been used for some time, for by continued use 
the loop becomes frail and the fish is apt to break 
away. I have taken many fish which would have 
been lost had I not first carefully examined my 
leader and fly. It is a very simple thing to do, and 
requires only a little time; yet how many anglers 
there are who neglect to take this precaution, but 
leave the work for others ! 

The flies generally used are the Jock Scott, Sil- 
ver Gray, Silver Doctor, Black Dose, Dusty Miller, 
and Silver Jock Scott. 1 These are the standard 

1 The lower part of the body of the Silver Jock Scott is covered 
with silver tinsel ; otherwise the Jock Scott and the Silver Jock 
Scott are identical. 

17 



flies, and are good on all Canadian waters. There 
are innumerable varieties, but the above are quite 
necessary for one's outfit. It is well to have a 
large assortment, because when the water is low 
salmon will very seldom in the daytime take the 
same fly which they will rise to when the river is 
high and muddy; so one should always have on 
hand different sizes of the above. I have had very 
little success with those smaller than No. 6 double. 
Although I have taken salmon with No. 8, 1 do not 
consider them practical ; they tear out easily and 
only hurt and lose fish. I am now referring to the 
Cascapedia, where the salmon run very large. On 
rivers where the fish are smaller the No. 8 double 
is used successfully ; but I believe the No. 6 to be 
quite small enough, if properly landed in the pool. 
My observation has convinced me that a medium- 
sized fly when cast by an expert angler is more kill- 
ing than a smaller fly cast by the same person. To 
illustrate my theory: Many years ago I was fishing a 
famous pool on the Cascapedia ; it was late in the 
season ; as the water was low and clear, I used a 
very small fly. I noticed that one of the canoemen 
was watching my casts most intently, and as I kept 
pegging away until nearly exhausted, without any 
success, he finally remarked: "I think that if you 
use a larger fly and cast it better, you will get a 
fish." This remark made me a little weary, because 
I thought I was doing splendidly, and to be con- 
18 



Silver Doctor 6/0 



Silver Doctor No. 6 double 



Silver Gray 6/0 

Silver Gray No. 6 double 



Note 

The flies on the following plates are not facsimiles of 
the samples, inasmuch as they show different tints at 
the end of some of the feathers. This is owing to me- 
chanical difficulties of the three-color process, and can- 
not, I am told, he avoided. Otherwise they are good 
representations. The Harrison fly should he gray in- 
stead of a brownish color. 



■ 
I 

I 

! 



sidered a duffer, as he evidently thought me, was 
most humiliating. I immediately handed the rod 
to him, and said : " Now show me what you can do." 

His eyes brightened, his lips parted, and the most 
satisfied grin I have ever seen appeared on his face. 
He at once cut off the fly as well as the loop at the 
end of the leader, pulled from his hat a fly, — one 
of his own make, a little larger but of the same 
pattern I had been using, — and fastened it to the 
leader by a process which I had not then learned, 
but will explain later. Before casting he allowed 
the line to drift down the river until it had straight- 
ened itself; then up went his arms, the rod bending 
gently backward and throwing the line in a perfect 
curve, when suddenly, with a quick turn of the 
wrists, the rod sprang forward, sending the fly diag- 
onally across the pool. It fell so softly that it 
hardly touched the water — then a whirl, a splash, 
a strike. "I 've got him!" he shouted. "I told 
you so ! Take the rod," he said. 

" No, thanks ; you play him," I replied. His 
contented little grin at once changed into one of 
the most fiendish. There was a fierce struggle, the 
fish was killed in a short time, and as he turned 
toward me the little grin reappeared, so I knew he 
was happy. I was humiliated, but it really gave 
me greater pleasure to see him hook and kill that 
fish than to have accomplished the feat myself. 
His knowledge of the manner in which to place the 
19 



fly so as to tempt the fish was what gave him suc- 
cess, and such knowledge can be acquired only by 
close observation. 

Here are the names and sizes of the flies I always 
try to have with me. 



QUANTITY 


NO. 


NAME 






3 . . 


6/0 . 


. Silver Gray, Single Hook 


3 . . 


5/0 . 


n u i 






3 . . 


4/0 . 


ti a t 






3 . . 


3/0 . 


tt ti I 






3 . . 


2/0 . 


a it t 






3 . . 


1/0 . 


it it i 






3 . . 


1 . 


it it i 






6 . . 


1/0 . 


. Black Dose ' 






6 . . 


1 


it it I 






3 . . 


5/0 . 


Steuart ' 






3 . . 


4/0 . 


it I 






3 . . 


1/0 . 


Dusty Miller ' 






3 . . 


1 


« it i 






3 . . 


3/0 . 


Jock Scott ' 






3 . . 


2/0 . 


a a i 






3 . . 


1/0 . 


a it i 




3 . . 


4/0 . 


Silver Jock Scott, Single Hook 


3 . . 


2/0 . 


a a a a a 


3 . . 


1/0 . 


ti a tt a ti 


6 . . 


3 . 


Silver Gray, Double Hook 


6 . . 


4 . 


ti ti 


it it 


6 . . 


6 . 


it u 


it it 


6 . . 


3 . 


Dusty Miller 


a it 


6 . . 


4 


a it 


it ti 


6 . . 


6 


it a 


it a 


6 . . 


3 


Jock Scott 


a ti 


6 . . 


4 . 


tt u 


it u 


6 . . 


6 


it it 


it it 


6 . . 


2 


Black Dose 


tt it 


6 . . 


3 


tt a 


it ti 


6 . . 


4 


n it 


ii it 


6 . . 


6 


a a 


it tt 


6 . . 


4 . 


Tim Fly 


u it 


6 . . 


6 


it a a it 






20 







Silver Jock Scott 4/0 Jock Scott 4/0 



Black Dose 2/0 Dusty Millee 1/0 



I have never been very successful with the Silver 
Doctor, although my friends have taken many fish 
with it ; I suppose the reason is, I seldom use it, pre- 
ferring the Silver Gray. I have killed some fish at 
night with a Silver Doctor, when the river was very 
muddy and high, as well as when it was low and 
clear ; but the Silver Gray I consider a much more 
killing fly. I have found a 4/0 white fly with a 
silver body, a golden pheasant's crest feather for 
the crest and tail, and a very small feather of the 
jungle-cock added to the wing, to be a good one 
at night. It is called the Steuart. The Tim fly, 
Nos. 4 and 6 double, with silver tinsel on black 
body, dark brown wings, a small feather of the 
jungle-cock, and the tail a crest feather of the 
golden pheasant, is excellent for low water. 

The above were made according to my own idea, 
and may be obtained from Forrest & Sons. The 
Nepisiguit Gray, No. 4 double, did good work for 
one season — since then I have never taken a fish 
with it; the Brown and Black Fairies are used 
by many : and so I might add a number of vari- 
eties; however, I shall leave them for the angler 
to discover as he progresses in the art. 

There are always a few feathers, a little wax, 
and some black and white thread in my fly-book, 
because I like to try to imitate the flies which I see 
floating down the river. By roughly adding a few 
feathers to the body of some worn-out Forrest I 
21 



am able to make a rough imitation, and with a non- 
descript of this kind I have had good sport. Then 
again, there is satisfaction in knowing they will 
take one of your own make. It is amusing, and for 
me it adds much to the pleasure of fishing. 

One of my canoemen, James Harrison, whom I 
consider an expert at salmon-fishing, ties good flies. 
They are so successful that he has had many orders. 
With one of his Silver Grays I killed thirteen fish 
from twenty to thirty-five pounds. One day when 
Harrison and I were fishing at the Crib, the pool 
seemed alive with salmon, and although none 
would take the fly, they would rush savagely for- 
ward at a small Black Dose, turning as quickly 
as they came. Finally Harrison took a fly from 
his pocket — one of his own make, a Black Dose, 
No. 1 single. It seemed rather large for the condi- 
tion of the water, and looked more like a good- 
sized bug. It was put on and cast forth. Two 
salmon started for it, one about forty pounds and 
the other, as it proved, of twenty-two, which was 
hooked and killed. The next cast gave us one of 
thirty-eight pounds. We were much surprised at 
the result, because we thought the water too low 
and clear for so large a fly. This again proves 
that it is not always the small fly they wish. My 
experiences of this kind have convinced me that 
the No. 8 double had best be discarded. It would 
be impossible to enumerate all the different va- 
22 



*Steuart 4/0 Harrison 3/0 



Tim Fly No. 6 double 



Black Dose No. 4 double 
*Steuart No. 3 double 



Brown Fairy No. 8 double 



' These flies should have had silver bodies. 




u 






m 








rieties. Let the beginner take those I have men- 
tioned, and I am quite sure they will be all that he 
needs. 

Large flies are not always necessary early in the 
season, because sometimes the river, although high 
at this time, is quite clear, and then medium sizes 
are better. I cannot, of course, tell my readers 
the best sizes to use ; they should vary as the con- 
dition of the river changes. During the first part 
of June there is generally a freshet. As the water 
begins to fall, but still remains muddy, then use 
the No. 5/0 Silver Gray, and your heart's desire 
will be gratified. 

From eight-thirty in the evening until nine- 
fifteen, always use the large sizes — from 5/0 to 
3/0 Silver Gray or Silver Doctor. This applies 
to July as well as June fishing. There seems 
to be a certain time between eight-thirty and nine 
o'clock when these game fish appear to be in a 
state of frenzy, rushing eagerly for the fly. Why 
they prefer this time of night, when all nature 
seems slumbering, is a mystery to me. Often 
during these few minutes, which my canoeman has 
appropriately named the "magic spell," 1 I have 
had grand sport; but I have never hooked a 
salmon later than nine-twenty, and now always 
stop fishing before that time, as the darkness 
coming on detracts so much from the pleasure. 

The "magic spell" begins about the middle of June. 

23 




THE LEADERS, OR CASTS 

'HE leaders — or casts, as they are 
called by many — should be nine feet 
in length for early fishing, and made of 
heavy, strong gut; for at this season of 
the year, the river being high, the current is much 
swifter, and greater force is required while playing 
the fish : therefore the heavier leader is the best. 
Later in the season, when the river falls and the 
water is very clear, I should advise the use of 
leaders twelve feet long and of a much smaller- 
sized gut. They should lift when dry four pounds, 
and it is always best to test one before fastening it 
to the line. I consider the stained leaders prefer- 
able, as they attract less attention One should 
constantly examine them, for they frequently be- 
come knotted when cast against the wind, and 
should this occur they are apt to break at the 
knots. This happened to a friend of mine when 
he had the fish almost within reach of the gaff. 
In attaching the fly to the leader, hold the fly be- 
24 



tween the thumb and forefinger of the left hand, 
with the curve of the hook downward. Cut off the 
loop of the leader and tie a single knot at the end. 
Put the knotted end of the leader up through the 
loop on the hook, turning it to the right. Bend it 
around the loop on the hook, putting the knot 
between the leader and top of the loop. Then 
draw the leader tight, and the knot will prevent 
the end pulling through. A fly fastened in this 
manner rests better upon the water, there is less 
resistance, and in my opinion it will add many 
more fish to our score than when fastened in the 
usual way — with the loop. Of course, there are 
times when salmon will take almost anything ; but 
when the water is clear, and you are fishing some 
quiet, shallow pool, then the finest leaders and 
the most delicate little knots are necessary. In 
fastening the leader to the line, the end of the line 
is put through the loop at the other end of the 
leader, and brought around in the same manner as 
when attaching the fly. A knot at the end of the 
line is unnecessary, as it will hold without one, 
but on the leader it is indispensable. It is always 
well to put our leaders in water just before they 
are used. This will soften them and prevent break- 
ing while handling, for they are somewhat brittle 
when dry. It will also take out the kinks. Warm 
water may be used, but never hot. Sometimes 
they become frayed; by going over them briskly 
25 



with a soft piece of rubber all the roughness will 
be removed. 

When the fishing is over for the season the lead- 
ers should be wrapped in oiled silk and placed in 
tin or wooden boxes. This will keep them in good 
condition for the following year. 



26 




THE CLOTHES 

jN my first visit to the Cascapedia I 
stopped a few days in St. John, and 
while there met a celebrated angler. 
I thought it best to consult him with 
regard to my outfit, so I asked him to come and 
see if mine was complete. 

I had two suits of a light-colored homespun, and 
one of a very bright plaid. These suits seemed to 
me to be just the thing. Perhaps the plaid was a 
little startling, but I did not consider it so much 
so as to scare the salmon out of the river. But 
when he saw my " togs," he threw up his hands in 
horror and said : " If you expect to kill any fish, 
you will be disappointed. Why, they will see you 
a mile away. This rig is altogether too bright. 
You should have a dark suit ; even black is better 
than what you have." 

"What can I do?" I exclaimed: "I have no 
other clothes." 

We finally decided to go to a shop where they 
sold ready-made clothing, and after trying on, it 
27 



seemed to me, every suit in sight, we decided upon 
a black cutaway coat and waistcoat ; and as there 
were no trousers of the same pattern, I selected a 
beautiful pair of black with white stripes. 

" Now," said he, " you are all right." Whether 
he had any interest in that shop, my readers shall 
decide; I was a novice, and had never killed a 
Cascapedia salmon. What did I care whether I 
fished in a cutaway or a nightgown I 

On our arrival at the river, imagine my astonish- 
ment when my canoeman told me that the loud, 
startling plaid clothes were just the thing. Per- 
haps he had an eye for the cutaway ; I am sure 
that he had, for before I left he got it. 

Any color will do, although I should not advise 
fishing in one's shirt-sleeves, at least if the shirt 
be white and you are on a pool where the salmon 
can see you — as I once saw a man doing in a 
white jersey, white duck trousers, and a white hat. 
I asked him if he had had any sport. " Not a fish 
since I have been on the river!" he replied. Yet 
he continued to wear that white suit just the 
same. 

Salmon are accustomed to seeing dark objects 
floating down the river, such as logs, branches of 
trees, etc. ; therefore I should recommend clothes 
as similar in color as possible. The Lovat mixture 
is an excellent cloth for a suit, with cap to match. 
When the river is high it does not matter, but at 
28 



low water one cannot be too careful. I always 
have a rubber bag in the canoe large enough to 
hold a rubber coat, boots, a light jersey, a light- 
weight overcoat, and a pair of socks. It occupies 
but little space, and when one of those sudden 
showers comes out of the clear sky these articles 
are more useful there than at home. 

A most necessary article is an ounce vial of the 
oil of citronella. One or two drops rubbed on the 
hands and face will keep away the whole company 
of flies and midges. I never knew this until last 
year, and it is well worth knowing. 



29 




THE CASTING 

•HIS is the most interesting part of the 
sport — not perhaps the most exciting, 
nor the part one loves the best, but it 
is the part which requires the greatest 
skill and upon which depends your success. 

How indifferent you try to appear when some 
one says, "Why, how well you cast ! " You always 
reply, " Oh, no ; do you think so ? " when you really 
think you do, and all the time you are swelling 
with pride. You are trying not to grin, but you 
do, and your cheeks are getting red and you are 
the happiest person in the world because you have 
been told you cast a good line. 

A friend of mine was having very poor sport. 
He was sitting in his canoe, casting a most 
wretched line, and looking so dejected that I was 
quite sure if it continued he would not have any 
luck and might wish to return to camp. As he 
was to join me at luncheon up the river, and we 
were to have the afternoon's fishing, it would have 
been most annoying to have him spoil the day's 
30 



sport by returning. " What can I do to keep 
him interested P A happy thought struck me : 
" Tell him he casts well." 

" How well you cast ! " I shouted. " We all no- 
ticed it coming up the river." 

"Oh, no; really?" 

Up he jumped, threw out his chest, and as I 
turned a bend in the river, the last thing I saw was 
that rod going through the air a hundred casts to 
the minute, and I heard a voice crying out : 

" Do not be late for luncheon. You know we are 
to fish early this afternoon ! " He has since become 
a good fisherman, and we have had many laughs 
over the incident. 

I once told a young woman who was fishing on 
our river that she cast a good fly. I really believe 
that she would have embraced me had I not 
changed the subject. We all like to be praised, 
and what pleases us more than to be told we are 
expert anglers ? 

The learner should remember that it is just as 
easy to make his casts gracefully as awkwardly. 
How few anglers there are who, although they 
are able to make the fly alight fairly well, do it in a 
graceful and pretty way! It looks very simple, 
but the little trick puzzles most of us at first, and 
when once you have acquired the knack of turning 
the wrists at the right moment, you have accom- 
plished that in which the majority of anglers have 
31 



failed, and with which I have been struggling for 
the past twenty years. Very little force is 
needed — not nearly so much, even in very long 
casts, is needed as one would imagine. I have 
seen a salmon-angler, who should have known 
better, use as much force in casting a line thirty 
feet as he would in casting sixty feet ; yet he can- 
not understand why in the short cast his fly some- 
times jumps backward and lands five feet this side 
of the spot intended, and why, in the backward 
cast, the tip of his rod hits Bill on top of the 
head as he sits in the bow of the canoe, unconscious 
of any danger, looking for logs coming down the 
river. But Bill certainly knew his man the next 
trip, for I saw him lying flat on his stomach, duck- 
ing his head on the back cast, bobbing it up on the 
forward, "An eye up-stream for those derned 
logs," as he expressed it, the other on the " strong 
man." "Quite a busy day," he remarked to my 
canoeman, as we were passing, " and lucky it 's 
cold ! No strikes yet, but I guess some one will get 
one before we get through ! " 

You should be able to cast equally well from 
either shoulder, without changing the position of 
the hands upon the rod. The right usually grasps 
the rod above the reel, with the left below. This 
is the position of nearly all anglers when casting 
from the right shoulder, whether the line is thrown 
in a direction diagonally to the right, straight away, 
32 



Limestone Pool 



or diagonally to the left ; but when a cast is made 
from the left shoulder diagonally to the right, 
most salmon-anglers reverse the places of their 
hands. This is not at all necessary. And as it 
is more artistic to bend the rod toward the left 
shoulder and to make the cast with one's hands un- 
changed, why not cultivate the skill that charms — 
and what has more charm than the casting of a fly? 
Of course, I do not intend that one should continue 
throughout the day casting with his hands in the 
same position in which he began in the morning ; 
but I do think it better to continue to cast from 
either shoulder as long as you can without fatigu- 
ing yourself or reversing the places of the hands. 
You will be surprised to find how interested you 
will become in this style of casting, and you will 
see a wonderful improvement in the alighting of the 
fly upon the pool. If you have not already accom- 
plished this little feat, try it and see. 

Do not attempt to learn the art of casting for 
salmon upon the grass. We are not going bass- 
fishing to see how far we are able to throw the bait. 
We are going to try to capture one of the most 
beautiful specimens of Nature's creation, and with 
such a prize before us let us obtain it in a worthy 
manner. If you begin with the grass practice, your 
only thought when arriving at the river will be to 
see how far you can throw the fly ; so instead of 
trying, as I have seen many do, to ruin the line or 
33 



break the tips casting for the wily toad upon the 
lawn, we will go to the bank of some swiftly run- 
ning stream to practise to our heart's content the 
art which all true anglers love — the casting of 
the fly. 

As most of our fishing will be done from canoes, 
we should begin our practice in the method by 
which we intend to kill our fish ; and when one has 
become proficient in the art of casting the fly from 
the canoe, it will be easier to accomplish the feat 
upon land. Casting from the canoe is less difficult 
than from the bank or beach of the river, because 
one usually has a clear space in which to make the 
cast, and should the fly, when thrown back pre- 
paratory to the forward cast, strike the water, as it 
sometimes does, nothing more serious is likely to 
happen than marring the beauty of the cast ; but 
when casting from the land one should be more 
careful, for if the fly touches any obstruction it is 
liable to become fastened, and the result is usually 
a broken tip or hook. To touch either the water 
from the canoe, or any obstruction when fishing 
from bank or beach, is, of course, bad form, and 
pardonable only when a very heavy wind is blow- 
ing against one's back. Even in the canoe, do 
not fail to look behind you to see if there are 
any trees on the banks, or rocks projecting above 
the water, which might cause trouble ; for it would 
be most annoying to find our fly fastened to a 
34 



branch, or to have the point of our hook broken 
just as we are about to send it forth with the ex- 
pectation of hooking a big fish. 

I have had this experience, and to my sorrow. 
A large salmon had been reported lying at the 
lower end of a rather narrow and still pool, situ- 
ated some distance up the river. Two cliffs, nearly- 
perpendicular, on which grew a few scattered trees, 
rose majestically on either side of this wild, weird 
place, the overhanging branches and the slow cur- 
rent of the water making the casting most difficult. 
However, having heard the tale of this wonderful 
fish, of course I was all excitement and eager to 
know if the guard from up the river had reported 
correctly. So William, James, and I, keen for a new 
experience, started the next morning up the Cas- 
capedia. Arriving at the pool, we stealthily climbed 
the cliff, and, lying on our stomachs, crawled to the 
edge. Carefully peeping over, we looked down into 
the depths of that deep, quiet pool, and saw an enor- 
mous salmon about four feet under water, and 
to all appearances resting quietly upon a projecting 
ledge. He was so large that James made his usual 
exclamation, " Perfectly scand'lous ! " This time the 
guard had not exaggerated the size of the fish. 
We hurried to the beach, jumped into the canoe, 
and started for the pool, with visions of great hap- 
piness before us. I told William to place the canoe 
in a position that would enable me to reach the 
35 



salmon with the first cast, and to be quite sure that 
we were far enough away not to be seen. My idea 
was that by placing the fly directly over the 
salmon at first, I should be more successful than if 
I whipped the water, increasing the length of line 
with each cast; that method, as the pool was so still, 
I thought would be more likely to frighten him. 
My men placed the canoe in position, and after 
waiting until all was quiet I began getting out my 
line by casting to the left, and, when the required 
length was reached, lifted it easily and sent it 
quickly backward, to go forth again, as I intended, 
as quietly and swiftly as it came. I imagine my 
fly falling softly on the water; I see a huge salmon 
rise to it and rush down the rapids. At last my 
dream is realized! Oh, what joy, what rapture! 
And to feel myself racing down the river on top of 
the tumbling seas, with this huge fislToccasionally 
throwing himself clear of the water in his effort to 
dislodge the hook, while James and William are 
paddling for life, is a sensation which makes every 
nerve in my body tingle with excitement. Sud- 
denly the salmon stops. Shouting to the men to 
back water, I commence to reel up the slack. " Go 
on ! " I cry. " He is off again ! Hold on there, 
James; he is up-stream now! No, by Jove! he is 
going down-stream again!" And away we go, 
rushing down the river after him, trusting to find 
some quiet spot where we hope safely to land the 
36 



king of the river. Suddenly I am awakened from 
my sweet delirium by feeling a tug at the end of 
my line somewhere up the river, and hearing the 
breaking of branches, I quickly turn about, and, to 
my horror, discover the fly fastened to a limb of an 
overhanging tree, and the tip of my rod broken 
and dangling above. My happy vision has passed 
away, and I awaken to the realization that it is 
always best to look up-stream before casting. 

Having anchored the canoe a sufficient distance 
from the shore to avoid all obstructions, let the 
beginner stand about midships, with feet well 
apart, and the right foot a little in advance of the 
left. In this position he can balance himself easily, 
and prevent the boat from wabbling, which should 
be avoided when fishing a still pool, for the ripples 
produced by the motion of the canoe are liable to 
disturb the fish. Pull the line from the reel until 
there are about twenty feet from the tip of the rod 
to the end of the leader ; let the current take it out 
until nearly taut ; then, with the right hand grasp- 
ing the rod above the reel, and the left in an easy 
position below, raise both until the right hand is 
almost opposite the middle of the- breast. Bending 
the wrists slightly forward will bring the rod to an 
angle of about forty-five degrees — the position in 
which you begin to make the cast. To make the 
cast, commence drawing the line by raising the rod 
slowly backward toward the right shoulder, in- 
37 



creasing the speed until nearly all the leader is 
visible. By this time your right arm and rod are 
nearly perpendicular ; then by a slight lifting mo- 
tion of the arms and a quick turn of the wrists the 
rod will spring back, lifting the line and sending it 
backward without causing the slightest disturb- 
ance in the water. To prevent the line running 
from the reel when lifting for the cast, hold it with 
the first finger only of the right hand. Some an- 
glers press the line against the rod with all four 
fingers. This is not a good way, because when the 
line is released it leaves only the thumb to grasp 
the rod. When you lift the line for a very long 
cast it is impossible to see the leader, but a little 
more speed and a higher elevation of the arms 
will send the line back in the proper way. In 
making the forward cast the lifting motion is 
omitted; but as you spring the rod forward, 
gently lower it, and the fly will alight softly on 
the pool. Remember to allow sufficient time for 
your line to straighten behind you before making 
the forward cast, otherwise the fly is liable to 
be snapped off. One should begin with a short 
line, gradually increasing the length as he improves 
in his casting. When once you have commenced 
to draw the line toward you, keep it coming; do 
not stop to lower the rod, as is the custom with 
many anglers, in order to get more force to switch 
the line out. The lowering of the rod sinks the 
38 



line, makes the cast more difficult, and is apt to 
break the tip as you lift the line from the water. 
Remember also to stop the rod when the right arm 
is nearly perpendicular; for should you cultivate 
the habit of the " strong man," and throw the rod 
well back, Bill might become uneasy again. Be- 
sides, the lowering of the tip pulls the line down, 
and causes the fly to hit the water. Do not bend 
the body forward, but stand erect, and make the 
cast simply with the arms. It is not a graceful 
sight to see a person bending over and poking 
out his rod, with the idea that it is helping him 
to make a longer cast. I cannot understand why 
it is done, unless one thinks more power is given ; 
on the contrary, the speed of the fly is lessened. 
Bending in such a manner is imitating the gyra- 
tions of a sandpiper ; it makes the boat wabble : 
and this, as I have already stated, is a grave fault. 
The canoemen also dislike it, for they are expect- 
ing at any moment to be plunged into the cold 
river. 

When casting a long line hold the rod very high, 
and stop it suddenly when it comes to the per- 
pendicular. This sudden check bends the rod, 
causing the line to be sent quickly backward. 
By the same motion of the rod as in the backward 
cast, the long line is thrown prettily forward. 
When you have had lots of practice, and have con- 
quered this easy, yet seemingly difficult, manner 
39 






of casting, you may then add the fly and go forth 
to capture your coveted prize. I consider the 
stopping of the rod when nearly perpendicular to 
be an expert's way of casting for salmon.^ Of 
course there are many ways of getting a fly out 
without endangering one's eyes, but the above 
appeals to me more than any other. 



40 




THE FISHING- 

)N starting for the day's fishing, do not 
forget any of the articles which are 
necessary for the sport. I once forgot 
my fly-book and my canoeman his gaff 
— a most remarkable thing to do ; but it really 
happened, and caused us much annoyance. 

On the Cascapedia I should advise having a gaff 
at each end of the canoe, for in certain parts of the 
river it is impossible to beach a fish, and there are 
some rough places where both canoemen should be 
ready. When approaching a pool, keep well to- 
ward the bank, and insist upon the canoemen 
reversing the position of their poles, for should 
they use them with the sockets 1 down, the sound 
produced by the steel striking the stones would be 
more likely to frighten the fish. Having got well 
past, paddle toward the middle of the river, and, 
while the current is taking the canoe toward the 
pool, gradually stop its progress by gently drop- 
ping the killick. 2 Then pay out rope enough to 

1 A small steel cap placed over one end of the "pole to prevent 
its slipping when it strikes the'bottom. 

2 A weight used for an anchor ; for salmon-fishing it should be cov- 
ered with lead to prevent any noise when it touches the bottom. 

41 



bring the canoe into a proper position for casting, 
but do not anchor in the middle of the pool; it 
frightens and drives away the fish. "When possible, 
try from the side; and if you are not successful, 
changing to the other side will sometimes cause 
the salmon to rise. I suppose it is the drawing 
of the fly across the current in a different way 
which attracts them. Having anchored, wait a 
few minutes before attempting to cast, until the 
salmon have become accustomed to the canoe, for 
I am sure it distracts their attention from the fly. 
After a while they get used to its presence and do 
not mind it. My own experience proves that one 
will have better success by waiting a little, espe- 
cially if the water be clear. Even in a rough pool 
it is better to wait; but of course if the river be 
muddy it does not make any difference. During 
this time of delay I always look down into the 
depths of the dear old river to see if any of the 
inhabitants have discovered me poaching. Once I 
thought a salmon did see me, for I saw the fish 
plainly, and the water being so clear, I supposed, 
of course, that we were observed. My alarm was 
unnecessary, for as I dropped the fly over him and 
moved it backward and forward, the salmon rose, 
seized the fly, and away he went. Had I begun to 
cast as soon as the canoe was in position, I do not 
believe I should have been successful. No ; when 
a salmon is as near the canoe as this, do not keep 
42 



casting for him. Drop the fly lightly above, and 
draw it to the right, to the left, then up-stream ; 
if these motions do not tempt him, try dangling it 
just over the salmon. If he still refuses to rise, 
take the fly away and rest him a little. At the 
next attempt try another size or a different kind 
if you prefer. Keep trying as long as he appears 
motionless, for he may wake up and get angry 
after a while, and seize the fly; but should he 
sidle off a little you may know it is useless trying 
to tempt him. I have never known salmon to 
rise after moving away in this manner. I sup- 
pose, having discovered us, they are frightened. 

In fishing a pool, try to have the sun in front 
of you, or shining sideways on the water. If the 
rays fall upon your back, the moving shadows of 
your arms are sure to alarm the fish. Even in 
muddy water salmon will rise better when the sun 
is in one's face. 

Nine o'clock is early enough to commence, but 
as the season advances you should go out a little 
earlier. In July be up with the lark if you wish 
any sport, for the best fishing is from 5 : 30 until 
7 a.m. Until late in June one can fish throughout 
the day, but after that until the close of the season 
early morning and late evening are the proper times. 
I consider the evening really the best time of all. 
With the canoe in position, cast the twenty feet of 
line diagonally to the right, being most careful to 
43 



have the fly and leader fall upon the water in a 
straight line. Keeping the tip two or three feet 
above the surface, move the rod slowly to the left 
with little short, quick jerks until the fly is below 
the stern of the canoe, not forgetting to hold the line 
with the first finger of the right hand. Make the 
next cast to the left ; bring the fly across the current 
in the same manner to the right. If this method 
will not induce a rise, instead of allowing the fly to 
move across the current, draw it up the stream to 
the right as soon as it alights, keeping it on the 
surface. Draw to the left, and back again to 
the right. Try this a few times before increasing 
the length of the line, for salmon will often take the 
fly drawn in this manner, when all other attempts 
have failed. You can draw the fly with any length 
of line you are able to cast, but unless you are pro- 
ficient in this way of fishing, the leader and a good 
part of the line will remain in the water. 

I was once whipping a very swift piece of water 
where salmon usually rise well. This time not a 
fish would come to the fly, although we knew there 
were many of them about. After throwing as long 
a line as I could, I reeled in all but about twenty 
feet and commenced casting to the left, drawing 
the fly on the surface up-stream. A few casts had 
been made without increasing the length, when a 
very large fish rose, and seizing the fly, ran down 
the river. We landed him, returned to the same 
44 



spot, and commenced to draw the fly again, when 
another seized it, and off he started. I took five 
salmon out of this water by drawing the fly 
after it had been given a good trial in the usual 
way. Sometimes they will take the fly under 
water, not even a ripple appearing upon the sur- 
face. It is best to try all methods when you know 
they are about, but drawing the fly is the most in- 
teresting to me, and the most successful as well. 

In clear water it is a good plan to drift past a 
pool to find out, if possible, where the salmon are 
lying, at the same time keeping a good distance 
away so as not to frighten them. By doing this 
you are able to place the canoe in a position to 
reach the salmon the first cast. "Wait ten or fifteen 
minutes before trying, for if we have chanced to 
disturb them as we passed they probably have for- 
gotten all about us by that time. 

Having located the fish, anchor the canoe far 
enough away not to be seen, but do not make the 
cast until you have got out sufficient line to land 
the fly five or six feet to the right or left of them, 
as your position in the pool requires. This can be 
done by casting almost at right angles to the canoe 
until you have the required length ; then, drawing 
the line back over the right shoulder, send it for- 
ward, making the fly and leader fall in a straight 
line upon the pool. If you do the trick correctly, 
something huge will suddenly dart from beneath 
45 



and seize the fly, the quiet and smoothly run- 
ning waters will part, and away you will go, 
dancing merrily down the rapids, shouting with 
joy. 

A friend and I had been fishing all the morn- 
ing; it was late in the season — about July tenth. 
As the river was very low and clear, we had 
taken only one salmon ; however, there was just 
time enough before luncheon to try another pool 
nearly a mile down the river. I thought we had 
a very good chance, although the water was quiet 
and very shallow, if we could land the fly cor- 
rectly just above a sunken rock where two or 
three big fellows are usually resting. My friend 
wished me to make the cast ; so, getting out a long 
line, I sent it forward, dropping the fly softly on 
the surface just above the rock. I had hardly 
commenced to draw it when an enormous shadow 
seized the No. 6 double Black Dose, and we were 
off. Out he jumped, and away he went for the 
rapids, we following at the best speed possible. 
My friend killed the salmon, which weighed thirty- 
nine pounds. After luncheon we took two more 
— twenty-five and thirty-four pounds — on the 
same ground. 

I am sure that in low, clear water it is best, if 

possible, first to locate your fish. Anchor some 

distance from them ; then, with a long line properly 

thrown, the game is yours. As soon as you have 

46 



hooked a salmon, turn the rod so as to bring the 
reel on top. This will make the line run along 
the rod, which is better than if it were supported 
by the guys alone ; besides, with the reel on top, 
you can play your fish easily. The killick must be 
taken in at once ; then the canoemen should paddle 
toward the shore most favorable for the killing, and 
seizing their poles with sockets up, hold the canoe 
in position ready for battle. If the salmon starts 
down the rapids, do not pursue him immediately ; 
wait and see what he really intends to do: for often 
just as you are about to go down he will turn and 
go back to the pool. When this occurs, the cast 
is liable to be cut by the stones in the river-bed ; 
this has happened to me, and I now let the fish 
get well away before following. When the salmon 
remains in the pool or in any swift water, keep be- 
low him if possible. This gives him the current 
and rod to contend with. Hold the rod well up, 
because the spring of the rod in this position will 
kill the fish much quicker than if held at an angle 
of forty-five degrees; besides, when he makes 
his frequent jumps, if the rod is well up you can 
lower it, and then you will not be shocked by a 
broken leader, for lowering the rod gives him line. 
This I consider most important, although there are 
many anglers who argue differently. I have seen 
an angler turn a thirty-five-pound salmon com- 
pletely over when he jumped, and I have also 
47 



seen the same angler break two leaders in succes- 
sion doing the same trick. It is safer and prettier 
to give them the line. 

Do not hold the salmon too hard at first. When 
he has become a little quieter, pull as hard as you 
like, keeping a steady strain all the time. I 
always try to bring my fish to the man in the 
stern of the canoe. If you keep below the salmon 
until he is tired out, you can usually do this. Of 
course, it is easier to bring him to the bowman's 
gaff, because, being below the fish, it cannot see 
you as it comes toward the canoe. The latter 
method is unhandy, as it invariably necessitates 
either turning around or changing your seat. 

A salmon is usually landed in from ten to 
twenty-five minutes. There are exceptions, of 
course, but with good management I think thirty 
minutes is time enough to land any salmon, unless 
he is hooked outside of the mouth. Should you 
come to a long stretch of swift-running water, and 
find the fish is bound to go down-stream, it is 
great sport to chase him, at the same time reeling 
up all the line you possibly can. When you have 
brought him to the surface, which you can easily 
do, let your men paddle a little faster and gaff the 
salmon in the current. It is much more exciting 
and requires more nerve than pulling him about 
in some quiet eddy until ready for the gaff. Do 
not allow canoemen to use it until the fish is close 
48 



to the canoe. They have a way of reaching out 
and gaffing at arm's length, which is a bad and 
dangerous thing to do, as it might cause an upset. 
The best place to gaff a salmon is in the shoulder, 
and always back of the leader. It takes a little 
more time, but the fish is more apt to be saved 
and the leader less likely to be broken. When 
once you have risen a salmon and he misses the 
fly, cast again ; and if he rises two or three times 
more before he yields to the little trap above, you 
feel a bit satisfied because you think you have at last 
outwitted the same fish — as you suppose him to be. 
This, however, is not always the case, for very 
often you hook an entirely different salmon from 
the one which rose first. I was fishing, many 
summers ago, near the head waters of that wild 
little river, the Nepisiguit, and had for my com- 
panion Mr. Spurr f of St. John, New Brunswick — 
and a fine salmon-angler he was. As there was a 
cliff about twenty feet high at the right of the pool 
in which we expected some sport, I suggested 
climbing up to see if there were any fish below. 
Crawling to the edge and looking over, I counted 
nine salmon at the head of the pool, lying side by 
side. Having told my friend where to cast, he 
threw a beautiful line, dropping the fly lightly just 
above the first salmon on the opposite side. The 
second fish rose, but did not take the fly. He cast 
again, when the fourth, darting down-stream, 
49 



turned and rose in about the same place in which 
the first had appeared. 

"I will get you yet, old fellow!" I heard him say. 
Again he cast, but this time the seventh salmon 
started and seized the fly just where the other two 
had risen. 

" I knew I should get you ! " he shouted. Then 
there was a tussle. Up and down stream flew the 
salmon, now out of the water, sometimes sulking, 
and finally away he went for the rapids. The old 
gentleman, with the agility of youth, jumped upon 
a rock, and, giving the butt, 1 the rod nearly 
doubled ; but the greenheart was stanch and true, 
and, gradually straightening, it slowly pulled back 
the fish. After leading the salmon up and down 
the stream a few times, my friend turned the fish 
toward the shore, and as soon as it felt the bottom 
it wriggled out of the water upon the beach. 

" Well done ! " I cried, chuckling with delight at 
the joke. 

" Did I not tell you I would get that fish?" again 
shouted my friend. 

Not wishing for a moment to destroy his happy 
delusion, I kept silent. Later I told the old gen- 
tleman. He seemed disheartened, and said, " It is 
very annoying — the way those small salmon can 
fool one." Had I not seen this happen, we both 

1 A term used in angling. When a severe strain is put upon the 
rod to check the run of a fish, it is called ' ' giving the butt." 

50 



Lower Part of Limestone 



would have thought that the fish which rose first 
was the one killed. I have often had a salmon 
rise three or four times nearly in the same place, 
believing it to be the same fish ; but the above 
experience shows that we are sometimes deceived. 

When you have risen a fish early in the season 
it is a good plan to leave the fly instead of casting 
again j for the salmon will often, after missing the 
fly the first time, immediately turn and seize it, 
whereas if you had taken it away he might have 
gone on up the river. At this season they are 
moving along during the day as well as at night, so 
it is always best to try this plan. When your fly 
is in the water keep your eyes on it; pay atten- 
tion ; fish. But just as soon as you find yourself 
looking at objects about you, — gazing at the 
clouds scudding across the mountain-tops or doing 
anything else you should not, — then take out the 
pipe and rest a little until you feel like fishing 
again. Unless you do this you will become indif- 
ferent to the sport, and will cast badly and very 
likely lose the one chance of hooking the biggest 
fish of the season. 

I once knew there was a large salmon lying at 
the lower end of Big Camp Pool. Having only 
one more day on the river, I decided to pole up 
for the afternoon's fishing, returning the same 
night. It was a very hot day, and, the pool being 
about twelve miles from my house, we were obliged 
51 



to make an early start. When we arrived thunder- 
clouds were flying thick and fast through the air, 
making me a little anxious to begin. Having 
whipped nearly all the pool, killing only one salmon, 
my prospects for a fifty-pounder did not seem very 
bright, so I said to my men : " One more drop ; 
then we will go." I had just made a long cast when 
my attention was drawn to a big black cloud rising 
high above the mountains to the left, indicating 
the approach of a heavy storm. In turning, some- 
thing happened — what, I never knew. Harrison 
shouted, " Have you got him ? He's a whale ! " 
He made a wave across the pool — at last the 
fifty-pounder had risen ! What could I do? I 
struck, but felt nothing ; nor did I ever see any- 
thing but that big black cloud, which kept on 
rising high above us as, with gloomy thoughts, we 
paddled homeward. 



52 




HOOKING THE SALMON 



? strike when a salmon rises to the 
fly is a simple matter. Almost all be- 
ginners do this feat perfectly ; but to 
strike at the right moment so as to 
hook the fish — that is quite another thing. When 
I began I could equal any one in striking. Back- 
ward would go my rod, and back would come the 
fly, to the astonishment, no doubt, of the fish, and 
to the sorrow of myself and canoemen. When 
you have a rise, the thing to do is to leave the fly 
until you feel a pull ; then strike hard if you are 
using large-sized hooks. With small ones only a 
little force is required, because when a small fly is 
required salmon usually do not take it so far back 
in the mouth ; they seem indifferent, and are more 
apt to seize it between the lips. If, therefore, 
much force is given to the strike, the hook is lia- 
ble to tear out. A salmon will often seize the fly 
before you are able to pull it away and hook him- 
self, but even then it is best to strike so as to be 
sure the hook is home. Sometimes he will take the 
53 



fly and come forward, keeping yon in doubt about 
its being seized. If this happens do not wait for 
the pull — it would be too late ; but if it be a short 
cast, raise the tip sufficiently to see the leader. 
Should you then notice that the lower part appears 
to sink more than usual, or moves a bit to the 
right, left, or up-stream, give a smart strike, and 
the chances are you will find yourself hooked to a 
good big salmon. With a long line out, it is, of 
course, more difficult to know whether the fly has 
been taken; experience will tell you, if you pay 
strict attention. 

When the fly is taken well under water, as it 
sometimes is, and no whirl is seen, your only 
knowledge of the fish is the pull. Then the harder 
you strike the better. To prevent the line running 
from the reel when striking the fish, it should be 
held the same as in casting, with the first finger of 
the right hand. If the line is not checked in some 
way when the salmon seizes the fly, it is not likely 
that you will hook him unless he should be most 
eager. Take care that you do not strike too hard 
and break the leader ; release the line as soon as 
the salmon is hooked. One acquires the habit of 
striking at the rise from trout-fishing, when, of 
course, it is necessary. But if you will have a little 
patience, and say to yourself, " Wait for the pull," 
all your troubles will fly away at the first salmon 
hooked. 

54 



Late in the season a salmon will often seize the 
fly so gently that if you should wait for the pull 
it would be too late to hook the fish, for he releases 
it just as softly but with greater alacrity. At such 
a time it is difficult to know when to strike. How- 
ever, with careful watchfulness, you will soon 
learn. 

A good little sportswoman once told me it was 
easy enough to hook a salmon — she never missed 
any. 

" Will you tell me the trick ? " I asked. 

" Why, it is very simple," she replied. " I never 
fish for trout any more." 



55 




CHANGING FLIES 

'HIS is a pleasant, even a delightful 
way of passing the time while on the 
pool — and also of bringing on an 
attack of nervous prostration. You 
are confident that by changing the fly the fish 
which leisurely rolled up at the Silver Gray a 
few moments ago will surely succumb to the fas- 
cinations of the Jock Scott. You pull out your 
fly-book, and choosing a beautiful specimen of the 
same, you hand it to Smith to see if he thinks the 
size is correct. Then you pass it back to Henry, 
as you want his opinion of the hook. After brush- 
ing his fingers across the feathers until you think 
they are ready to fall off, he decides that the point 
does turn in a little, so another new bright decora- 
tion is added to his hat. A second time the fly-book 
is resorted to, and a Jock Scott — similar in every 
way to the first — is decided to be a little im- 
provement on the other; so, fastening it to the leader, 
away it speeds on its journey, while you gently 
draw it across the current and breathlessly await 
56 



results. Again the wise old fellow below re- 
fuses to be disturbed in his slumber. Another 
consultation, and you decide that a darker fly 
might arouse him ; so this time a Black Dose goes 
forth on its deadly mission; but still he sleep- 
eth, and seeth not. A Durham Ranger, a Wilkin- 
son, Brown and Black Fairies — large and small 
flies of all kinds are tried ; but the old salmon seems 
perfectly content where he is, resting in that com- 
fortable little spot behind the big rock. 

" Suppose we have a smoke now; let us wait ten 
minutes and then try the Silver Gray again." 

"Don't think it of much use," replies Smith, 
"but we can try." Fastening securely the same 
Silver Gray and rising to my feet, I cast it for- 
ward. " What was that, Smith ? " I cry as my fly 
comes round. 

" Think you must have moved him, sir. Wait 
a little, and cast again." This time, as the fly 
falls softly, there is a splash and a tug; at last 
he has awakened from his slumber. If this 
fish had risen to a Jock Scott, Black Dose, 
Dusty Miller, or any fly, and you had kept on 
using it, I believe the result would have been the 
same. Salmon no doubt sleep more than we think 
they do, and when we are casting over them they 
do not see the fly. We raise a fish, and think it 
strange he does not come again. Then we try all 
kinds of flies, and finally hook our fish with 
57 



the same fly to which he first rose. This, in 
my opinion, is owing to the salmon being asleep. 
Then, arousing, and seeing something moving 
about which puzzles or startles him, he rises slowly 
to see what it is, and having satisfied his curiosity, 
gently drops for another nap. Awakening the 
second time and seeing the fly, he says to himself : 
" Oh, there 's that beastly thing again. How an- 
noying ! Think I '11 go up and drive it away." 
Being refreshed by his sleep, he feels more 
like exercising ; so, darting upward, he seizes the 
hook. 

At the first of the season, my favorite fly, as 
I have already stated, is the Silver Gray, but my 
wife takes her salmon with the Silver Doctor. 
When the water is a little clear, but still high, and 
most of the anglers are using the Jock Scott as 
well as other varieties, I find the Black Dose 
kills just as many fish, showing that the color does 
not make much difference at this stage of the 
water. When the river is low, I believe that 
salmon will take a small dark fly in preference to 
one of a brighter color. Still, I have been very suc- 
cessful using both the No. 6 double Dusty Miller 
and the No. 6 double Silver Gray, and this expe- 
rience at times makes me doubt if they have any 
choice. My friend the late R. G. Dun, who fished 
the Cascapedia for many years, told me he found 
that the medium-sized bright fly, even in low 
58 



water, did good work. Once I saw him killing sal- 
mon in the middle of the day with a fly whose 
body was silver, the hackle red, and the wings 
nearly pink. I asked him what he called it, and 
he said it was a Silver Durham Ranger, size 
No. 1. Another fancy of his was the Wilkin- 
son, which I have tried and found to be good. 
The Durham Ranger, however, has never be- 
friended me on the Cascapedia, although if con- 
stantly used it might do as well as any other color. 
We all like to change flies ; it amuses us, and there 
is a certain fascination about it : but I believe it is 
more apt to do harm than good, because the more 
you change, the more you whip the pool. It is 
better to rest the fish longer, cast less frequently, 
and try to tempt them again with the same fly at 
which they first rose. I do not believe that salmon 
pay any particular attention to the color of small 
objects in high water; it is likely that the size and 
the bright silver tinsel on the body attract them 
more than the color of the fly; therefore, at 
this time, when the water is muddy, and also 
at night, use large sizes with silver bodies; but 
when the river is low and clear, I should recom- 
mend small and medium flies of sombre hues. 
Then, if the salmon are not sleeping and you are 
careful in making the cast, you will not find it 
necessary to be continually changing flies. One 
may be using too large or too small flies, and the 
59 



salmon refuse to rise; but if they refuse to come 
to my favorites, the Silver Gray, Dusty Miller, 
Black Dose, or Tim, I do not believe it is worth 
while changing, except for the amusement it 
affords. 



60 




THE WEATHER 

'HE weather at times seems to have a 
rather depressing effect upon salmon. 
In June, when the days are cool and 
dull, they are not as eager for the fly 
as in bright, clear weather. To kill a salmon dur- 
ing a thunder-storm is a feat which I have never 
accomplished, though I have got many a good 
ducking in trying it. I have taken fish when the 
thunder was rolling through the heavens and a 
little rain falling upon the pools, although the 
storm was some distance away. But when those 
terrific explosions burst upon you from directly 
overhead, as if the clouds were torn asunder, and 
fierce lightning adds new fear and danger to us 
below — at such a time I believe the salmon, like 
other animals, including their human cousins, are 
thinking more of their safety than of anything 
else. Perhaps a few anglers may have braved all 
this and killed fish, but I have never been able to 
get a rise in a thunder-storm, and am quite sure I 
shall never try again. Once I fished all through 
61 



a severe storm, when I knew the pool was full of 
fish, but not a fin of them would rise to take the 
fly; while just before and immediately after the 
storm I had splendid sport. It must be the jar as 
well as the sound of thunder which frightens them. 

Easterly winds are not considered particularly 
favorable for sport, although I have killed many a 
salmon when it was blowing that way. A bright, 
clear morning in June, with the wind from the 
south, is the best of all ; but in July our prayers 
are for rain from the west or south. A very heavy 
downfall is not good, because the big drops hit the 
water so forcibly as to make large bubbles, and 
these prevent salmon from seeing the fly. It is 
an old saying among the natives, " Much mist on 
the river, no salmon." I have not always found 
this true ; often when there has been a very dense 
fog my canoe has done remarkably well. I do 
not think heavy mists improve our chances dur- 
ing the first part of June, for then the warmer 
and clearer the days the better the sport. Later 
in the season cool, dull days are preferable ; and 
a little mist does no harm. This has been my 
experience. 

It was an afternoon in July ; the day had been 
extremely mild until about four o'clock, when the 
balmy breeze from the west suddenly changed to a 
cold east wind, which came sweeping up the valley 
and made it most disagreeable to be on the river. 
62 



I said to my men : " Perhaps this sudden whim of 
the wind may cause a change of mind in that big 
fish we saw this morning in front of the camp. 
He may now be willing to rise." 

We poled up to the pool with the utmost care, 
and placing the canoe about sixty feet above the 
spot where the salmon was lying, I put on a No. 4 
double Dusty Miller. My hands were cold, and I 
told James to make the first cast, never dreaming 
the salriion would be so near. He made a cast. 
Instantly a very large fish jumped nearly out of 
the water, and, seizing the fly, dashed up the 
stream, taking out thirty yards of the line before I 
could get the rod. In a second he started up- 
stream again with a run of forty yards. By this 
time we were following as fast as possible, but 
found it most difficult, as we had to go up a rapid 
before reaching the pool in which the salmon 
stopped. While we were moving along I was able 
to take in some line; when all but about forty 
yards was on the reel, my men suddenly stopped 
poling, and, to my dismay, Harrison said : " That 
salmon is behind the ledge; we must get on the 
other side of the rapid right away if we wish to 
save him." I was a little angry, for the men should 
have told me that there was a ledge on that side. 
We had just started to go across when I felt a tug, 
then another, and before I knew what had hap- 
pened the ledge cut my leader and the salmon 
63 



went off like a flash. It was a very large fish — 
fifty pounds, I should think, or more; and when 
my line came back I could have wept. Had I 
known there was a ledge under water, I would 
have gone toward it as soon as the fish made its 
second run, and then, perhaps, been spared the 
great disappointment. It was most annoying to 
lose the fish at this time, because my wife and six 
men were watching me from the bank, and every 
soul of them (save one) believed it to be my fault. 
Having tried this same salmon in the morning, it 
would appear as if the cold wind had made him 
change his mind and take the fly in the afternoon. 
They will often do this when there is a sudden 
change from a warm to a cold wind. 



64 



THE LOOS 




TIMBERING in the Cascapedia country 
has developed to such an extent that 
it is the cause of much annoyance to 
the anglers. The thousands of spruce 
and cedar logs which the choppers have cut and 
hauled to the banks during the winter are rolled 
into the river in the spring, and they come dancing 
along, bobbing up and down in the current, just 
about the best fishing time, endangering those in 
the canoes and ruining for a time all the chances 
of any sport. Fortunately this condition is only 
temporary, as the logs are not more than two or 
three days in passing. But when you know there 
are fresh-run salmon eager for the fly resting in 
the pools, and it is impossible to fish for them, you 
find it very hard to refrain from using unpardon- 
able expressions. 

I do not believe that an occasional log floating 

down the river does any harm ; it rather excites 

the fish, and sometimes wakes them up a bit when 

in a state of lethargy, for I have often taken one 

65 



just after a log has passed. I would not advise 
fishing when the logs are continually going by, 
as then no doubt the salmon are frightened. 
Once I saw a salmon spring from between two 
logs, striking one of them as he fell back. He did 
not seem to be much alarmed, for he glided away 
very quietly. Unless one has expert canoemen, it 
is not safe to go out when the logs are thick ; but 
if you should be unable to resist the temptation 
to go a-fishing, insist on having both men face 
the bow of the canoe when you anchor; in this 
position they can see the logs better coming down 
the river, and it is wiser to have two men on the 
lookout than one. I used to think one was suffi- 
cient, and depended entirely upon my bowman, 
until one day a large log, drifting quietly along, 
bumped against the bow of my canoe and sent me 
tumbling over backwards as I was trying my best 
to induce a fine old salmon to rise the second time. 
It was most fortunate I did not fall overboard, for 
just below there was a dangerous piece of water. 
The man was so intent watching my efforts to 
raise the fish that he forgot all about the drifting 
logs ; however, I forgave him, as he promised to do 
better. 

Once, when I was fishing my lower water, a raft 

came down the river headed directly for a pool I 

intended to try. Believing, of course, it would 

drive all the salmon away, I decided not to fish ; 

66 



but my men seemed to think, as we had come so far, 
we should make a trial before returning. "All 
right; let us try," I said. We dropped the killick, 
and in two minutes after the raft had gone by I 
was fastened to a salmon — the only one I found 
in the pool. My canoemen told of a person who 
used to have a small tree drawn through a pool to 
stir the salmon up, as he expressed it, so they 
would bite ; and, strange to say, the experiment 
worked well. 

One night, as we were poling leisurely toward 
camp, I saw a large night-heron perched on a log 
which was floating down the middle of the river. 
It was really a comical sight. I suppose the bird, 
feeling lazy and wishing to avoid any fatigue, had 
chosen this means of traveling; he seemed so 
absorbed in his happiness that he scarcely deigned 
to notice us as we passed. Gazing on him until 
he was out of sight, we continued up the river. 

The old proverb, "It is an ill wind that blows no 
man to good," must be a true one. On a bright, 
crisp morning, when the logs were running very 
thick, my wife with her canoemen made an early 
start for a pool three miles down the river. It 
was about the only place where there was any 
chance of saving a fish ; for, the river being wide, 
with the current strongest close to the left bank, 
nearly all the logs that came down followed the cur- 
rent toward that side, leaving a moderately clear 
67 



space to the right in which to cast. About an 
hour after Mrs. Davis had left, I called to the men 
and told them to get ready, as I was going down 
to see if there would be any danger in fishing this 
pool. By the time we were ready to start, the logs 
had increased in numbers, making the running most 
difficult. We soon came in sight of the other 
canoe, and saw that it was in the midst of the logs 
in the worst part of the river. Both men were 
standing, trying to push the logs away, while my 
wife, sitting flat in the canoe, was playing a big 
fish. Sometimes the rod would be held under 
water to let the logs run over the line ; then up it 
would go, to be as quickly put down again, allow- 
ing more to pass. When we had arrived within 
one hundred yards of her canoe, I told my men to 
seize their poles, the bowman to watch the logs 
as they came near us and push them toward the 
left shore, while James in the stern was to hold the 
canoe. In a few minutes we had a clear space for 
Mrs. Davis to play the fish, and shouted to her to 
pull as she never had pulled before. She turned the 
salmon ; he reluctantly left the swift current, and, 
with a tremendous leap, sprang ten feet toward 
shallow water. This was just what was wanted, 
for if he could be kept away from the logs he was 
sure to be landed, if the hook held. By dropping 
a little farther down-stream we were enabled to 
push nearly every log away, thus giving a larger 
68 



space and making the chances still better for sav- 
ing the fish. Then came a hard and bitter fight 
to prevent the salmon from getting back to deep 
water ; the angler, as well as the salmon, began to 
feel the strain. But again the deadly spring of the 
little cane-rod splendidly did its work ; and, mak- 
ing a mighty effort, my wife succeeded in turning 
the fish, thus winning the hard-fought battle. After 
a few ineffectual attempts to break away, he is 
gently brought to the gaff and lifted into the 
canoe. A cry of delight is heard, for it is her first 
forty-four-pound salmon, a large fish to kill even 
under favorable conditions; but, with the river full 
of logs, both the men and the angler deserve 
praise for the skill and coolness that gave them 
the victory. 

Unless the lumbermen drive their logs earlier in 
the season, they will eventually ruin the Casca- 
pedia as a salmon river. During the drive of 1903 
the logs were more than five weeks passing my 
camp, and at a time when salmon were running 
up. Jam after jam extended from the camp five 
or six miles up the river ; in one place it was nearly 
blocked, there being hardly space enough to pole 
the canoe. This, of course, is not allowed by the 
government j nevertheless it happened. When the 
logs remain so long in the river the water becomes 
colored and dirty ; innumerable pieces of the bark 
keep drifting down, which, in my opinion, is as 



injurious as so much sawdust. I have asked the 
men why they do not drive earlier, when the river 
is high; then it would not make so much differ- 
ence, as the logs would pass quickly. Their 
answer invariably is that the boom is not strong 
enough to hold so many logs; they would drift 
out to sea. If such is the case, the government 
should prevent the owners driving more than they 
can handle, and insist upon the logs being in the 
boom by the last of June. Sixty or seventy thou- 
sand coming down at low water, as was the condi- 
tion this year, will stop the late June and early 
July run of salmon from entering, for they will 
not enter a river in which there is any dyeing 
material. Now that lumbermen have invaded the 
Lake Branch, and scows every few days pass up 
and down that narrow stream, I believe the salmon 
will be exterminated eventually in that part of 
the river unless the government comes to their 
rescue. It is destructive to have horses wading 
and hauling scows through the Lazy Bogan coun- 
try, as there the river is also narrow and shallow ; 
but when they arrive at the junction of the two 
branches, they should be compelled to stop, and 
the supplies for the logging camps toted over the 
road. This would necessitate a little more outlay, 
and the owners of the timber should be made to 
do this if it is the means of preserving the breed- 
ing-ground. In the winter supplies are sent over 
70 



Her First Forty-four-pound Salmon 



the road, and this should be done also during the 
spawning season ; for the scows are nearly as broad 
as the stream, and the water being shallow, they 
must necessarily scrape on the bars as they are 
hauled along, destroying the spawn and disturbing 
the fish. If this matter is brought before the gov- 
ernment, it will without doubt remedy the evil and 
be willing to protect the breeding-ground of our 
lordly salmon. The Cascapedia Club and the few 
lodges along the river are doing everything they 
possibly can, but I do not believe they will be suc- 
cessful in increasing the number of salmon unless 
the lumbermen help in their preservation. If what 
I have seen this season continues, I am afraid the 
beautiful Cascapedia will become, like its sister, the 
" Little River," only a sweet remembrance. 



71 




THE SALMON 

'HE salmon of the Grand Cascapedia 
average more in weight than those of 
any other river in Canada. Although 
the majority of the fish taken run 
from twenty to thirty-three pounds, many are 
killed that weigh from thirty-three to thirty-eight 
pounds, and even as high as forty-three to 
forty-five pounds is not unusual; but when one 
overtops the forty-five-pound mark, congratula- 
tions are extended along the line to the lucky 
angler. Every year there are one or two forty- 
seven- or forty-eight-pound fish landed, and some 
seasons I have known as many as four or five of 
these enormous fish to be brought to the gaff. The 
fifty-pound salmon are quite rare, although I was 
most fortunate, in the season of 1900, in taking one 
of fifty-one pounds, and the following year another 
of fifty-two, the killing of which I shall describe 
later on in " A Trip to Red Camp." 

A surprising number of small salmon, weighing 
from ten to sixteen pounds, have come into the 
72 



The Fifty-two-pound Salmon 



river during the past four or five years. Formerly 
I very seldom killed a fish as small as eleven 
pounds, though of late the river seems to hold any 
number of these small fish. As I do not find many 
of them in my pools late in the season, or even in 
the club water, — unless at the upper part of the 
river, — they must be bound for the head waters. 
I believe they belong to the lake and salmon 
branches, and are the result of protection. They 
are game little fellows, and when hooked will run, 
jump, and skip about, trying to outdo the antics 
of their grandfathers. It is a great mistake to 
think that the forty-pounders are less game than 
their younger companions. I dare say some of 
these large fish, like the smaller ones, will act 
very sluggishly at times: there is no accounting 
for their whims. Of the many large fish I have 
taken of forty pounds or more, I remember only 
three which seemed disinclined to give a bit of 
sport. The rest were wild, raving terrors. One of 
forty-four pounds sprang clear out of the water, 
and, seizing the fly, in three successive leaps got 
half-way across the pool, with forty or fifty yards 
of line cutting the water like a knife. Suddenly 
he turned, and, with a tremendous bound, sped 
away for freedom ; but the delicate little fly held 
fast, and, with the rod bending like a bow and the 
reel singing its merry tune, we found ourselves fly- 
ing along the current, chasing something which 
73 



seemed almost uncanny. After a while we got 
close enough for the gaff, and by a quick stroke of 
the paddle the canoe shot forward, when James, 
sending the gaff deep into the shoulder, lifted the 
grand old salmon into the canoe. As most of my 
large salmon have given me some thrilling experi- 
ences, I prefer the killing of large fish. During the 
number of years I have been on the river I have 
seen only four grilse. Although many are taken in 
the Restigouche, the Cascapedia seems quite free 
from them. 

About the twentieth of June large numbers of 
sea-trout come up the river, and while they are 
resting on the bars or in some shallow pool grand 
sport may be had fishing for them with a light rod. 
One should use a reel holding thirty or forty yards 
of line, for the trout are large, weighing from one 
to five pounds, and often they will start off like a 
salmon, obliging one to follow in the canoe. 



74 




THE RUNS AND VARIETIES 

HAVE been told by some of the old 
net-fishermen on the Cascapedia that 
there are three runs of salmon dnring 
June and July, and each a different 
variety. The first run, they say, comes in during 
the last of May and first part of June, the second 
arrives about the middle of June, and the third 
some time after the fifth of July. "Whether this 
is true or not I cannot say, but I do know that 
salmon are continually coming into the river from 
the last of May until the last of July, and no 
doubt during August there are a few stragglers. 
From the first of June till the last the river seems 
to be full of fish. After this time the lower part 
does not contain as many, for most of them have 
gone farther up ; and, it being very late, there are 
only a few coming in. I have observed the three 
following varieties, which the natives call the first 
run, the red-fins, and the green-backs: The first 
run is that which arrives about the last of May; 
these are the bright silver salmon upon which all 
75 



anglers love to gaze and are eager to capture. 
The red-fins come along the last of June ; although 
I believe they average more in weight, they are 
not so long in proportion to their size as the first 
run. Their fins have a peculiar red shade, and 
their bodies from the anal nearly to the pectoral 
fins have a more golden tint, but their backs have 
the same green color as the first run. We know 
that salmon change in color after they have been 
a few weeks in the river. Their backs grow darker, 
and the bright silver appearance of their bodies 
turns to something more like copper-color. The 
fins put on a reddish hue, the spots about the gills 
increase in size, and altogether they are not par- 
ticularly interesting to look upon. The peculiar 
color of the red-fins is not due to the river. They 
must have had it when they entered, because they 
have this color when their backs are green, and this 
denotes they are fresh-run fish. The third variety, 
the green-backs, arriving late in the season, do 
look a little brighter than their companions lying 
at the bottom of the pool. This is perfectly nat- 
ural, because, being fresh-run fish, their backs 
would be lighter in color than those of salmon 
which arrived early in June. But how can we 
account for the back of a fresh-run green-back 
being lighter in color than that of a fresh-run 
salmon? Are the natives right, and have we 
three varieties in the river ? The only difference 
76 



I have ever seen in the Cascapedia salmon (with 
the exception of color and size) is the position of 
the adipose and the anal fin; these, I notice, are 
much nearer the tail in some than in others. 
Whether it denotes a different variety or malfor- 
mation, I am unable to say. 



77 




THE RISES 

?HY do salmon rise to the fly? Is it 
merely the desire for food that causes 
them to spriDg so beautifully out of 
the water 1 Or is it joy or anger that 
makes them take the fatal lures we gently 
draw across the stream f My idea is that both joy 
and anger are the cause of their misfortune. I be- 
lieve that as soon as salmon enter this cold north- 
ern river they experience a sensation of happiness. 
What pleasure it must give them, having escaped 
the dangers of the deep, to go bounding up-stream 
on the way to the breeding-ground, where in their 
silent homes they bring forth their young to 
replenish the Grand Cascapedia! While they are 
in this joyful state they love to frolic. They will 
take small bits of wood — indeed, they will seize 
almost anything. But when they have been in the 
river a number of days and the water begins to fall, 
their excitement becomes less intense, and, gradu- 
ally getting used to the situation, they are not as keen 
to seize everything they see. They are like our- 
selves, for are we not supremely happy as soon as we 
78 



get the first glimpse of the river f A new life be- 
gins to creep into our body, and we are all excite- 
ment until seated in the canoe. We cannot, like 
the salmon, seize the fly, but we can for a time 
make the rod very lively, although we know there 
is not the slightest chance of hooking a fish. After 
a time we become more rational, and go fishing in 
a pleasant and peaceful way. I have caused many 
an obstinate salmon to take the fly simply by dan- 
gling it over him a few minutes, having failed to 
entice him by any other method. It seems to 
annoy the fish. They rush at it to drive it away, 
but it won't go ; and at last, in desperation, they 
seize it and are hooked. I attribute this entirely 
to anger. As salmon are accustomed, when in the 
sea, to seize small fish for food, the desire for chas- 
ing their prey may exist when they enter the river ; 
then, seeing the flies skipping about on the surface, 
they rush eagerly at them for the sport it gives, 
although not requiring them for nourishment. If 
their desire for food gave us this grand sport, and 
the beautiful pictures they make when they leap 
for the fly, would we not at times find something 
in their stomachs indicating such a desire ! Most 
anglers agree that salmon do not feed in fresh 
water, and I am told that, through some process 
which takes place in the stomach while in the river, 
they become utterly incapable of digesting food. I 
was once fishing for a few days in the Flat Lands 
79 



on the Bestigouche Eiver. One evening, toward 
sunset, while sitting in my canoe, I saw a salmon 
rise and seize a small butterfly which was drift- 
ing with the current. The butterfly had hardly 
disappeared when I again noticed it on the surface 
of the river a short distance below. Now if the 
salmon had desired this insect for food I do not 
believe he would have permitted it to escape so 
easily. Another time, when I was reeling in a 
greedy young trout which had risen to my big 
gray fly, a large salmon rushed fiercely for him, 
but turned away quite as quickly, showing that 
his intention was only the chase. 

If salmon feed in fresh water, why should they 
not weigh as much fifty miles from the mouth of 
the river as they do at fifteen 1 They may lose a 
few pounds in the fatigue of running up to their 
homes, but with three or four weeks' rest and 
plenty to eat it seems as though they should re- 
gain their weight. 

A salmon forty-eight inches in length which I 
killed at Lazy Bogan weighed only thirty-six 
pounds; one of thirty-nine inches weighed only 
thirty pounds. They were both female fish and 
looked in good condition. Nearly all that I killed 
at Lazy Bogan have weighed much less in propor- 
tion to their length than those taken in the lower 
part of the river, which I think again proves 
that salmon do not feed in fresh water. I have 
80 



used sunken bait — artificial minnows — and in vari- 
ous ways tried to hook them, but without success, so 
it seems that it is more in sport they rise to the fly. 
The most wonderful feature of their habits is 
the instinct which leads them to return to the same 
river which they left the season before to explore 
the mysteries of the sea. They surely must re- 
member and recognize some peculiarity in the con- 
dition of the stream as it flows out into the bay and 
meets them on their annual return to fresh water. 
We all know that heavy freshets bring good fly- 
fishing. The reason is that the heavier the volume 
of water flowing into the bay, the farther out the 
salmon must meet it and know it to be the water of 
their home. They then follow it up immediately 
to the river, and thus escape the nets. Low water, 
on the other hand, brings a harvest to the net-fish- 
erman. This would indicate that the salmon, not 
meeting, as they expected, any fresh water out in 
the bay, and knowing they had come far enough to 
find it, seek this fresh water nearer the shore ; and 
while they are cruising about trying to find it they 
are caught by the nets. I do not believe in the 
theory that many salmon are taken in the nets 
while they are chasing small fish toward the shore 
for food. They no doubt feed when in the bay, 
because food has been found in their stomachs; 
but just as soon as they find fresh water, in they 
rush on their way to happiness and misfortune. 
81 




DO SALMON HEAR? 

JO salmon hear? This is a question 
often asked. Kind Nature has allowed 
them to distinguish sound without 
burdening them with those horrible 
appendages, the ears. We all know that a trout 
will dart forth from beneath the bank as we pass, 
although he sees us not. Here, no doubt, vibration 
is the cause of his uneasiness, for he certainly did 
not hear us. Now carefully crawl to the bank 
without causing any vibration ; then let some one 
fire a gun quite a distance away. The trout will 
refuse to take the fly or bait, and sometimes you 
will see them darting here and there, in a state of 
anxiety bordering on madness, until they have 
found some quiet little place in which they feel 
safe. This time it is not the vibration of the 
bank, but the noise made by the firing of the gun, 
which has frightened them. "When fishing salmon 
I have had similar experiences regarding their 
hearing, which makes me believe they are very 
82 



acute in distinguishing sound and will not take 
the fly until some time after the noise has ceased. 
One day at Coull's Pool, a part of my own water, I 
was having good sport until we discovered, half 
a mile below and on the opposite side of the 
river, Joseph Cornier coming up the beach with 
his old bay mare to haul logs from the bank. As 
the horses' shoes struck the stones in the bed of 
the river, they made such a noise that it seemed 
useless trying any longer; however, we kept on, 
not getting even a rise. After a time, giving up 
all hope of doing anything, I told the men to take 
me ashore; but as we knew there were a good 
many salmon in the pool, we disliked the idea 
of going away, so decided to wait and try after 
Cornier had stopped hauling. Now Cornier was a 
most agreeable and obliging fellow, and, being 
anxious to do us a favor, he knocked off work 
much sooner than we expected. Very naturally 
we were delighted when we saw him depart, for we 
hoped to have some more sport. Wishing to give 
the salmon time enough to get over their fright, I 
turned over on the grass for another forty winks ; 
but I had hardly closed my eyes, it seemed, when 
Harrison, waking me suddenly, said : " Better come 
now — just saw two salmon rise." 
" My waking thoughts, the dream that gilds my sleep, 
The noontide reverie, all are given to thee — to thee 
alone, to thee alone/' 
83 



Bushing to the canoe, we were quickly anchored 
on the pool; and in another half -hour I had 
brought to gaff three fine fish from the very same 
place in which we could not get a rise while the 
old bay mare was wading about below and pound- 
ing on the bottom. 

Another time, when I was fishing a pool in front 
of the club-house, one of the guards some three 
hundred yards below the house, believing I had 
gone up the river, fired his rifle. The report was 
very startling: it echoed through the mountains 
and died away in a dull sound in the distance. 
Presently he fired again, and before I had the pool 
half whipped still another report was heard. This 
was beginning to be wearisome. Pulling up the 
killick, we turned homeward, and had just started 
to cross when the guard appeared. Of course he 
apologized, saying he was very sorry and had no 
idea we were so near. Thinking it of no use to 
try the same pool again until it had taken a rest, 
we anchored in another a hundred yards below. 
Here also we failed to get a fish. Believing the 
noise had frightened the salmon, I decided to 
return to the club-house and wait till after lun- 
cheon, when I would give them another trial. About 
three o'clock we again started out, killing two 
fish in the pool opposite and one in the pool below. 
I am sure the firing was the cause of our failure to 
get these salmon in the morning. 
84 



Thus salmon have a quick ear for danger; but 
I do not believe that the sound of distant thunder 
or any noise which does not mean danger has the 
least effect upon them, any more than the falling of 
trees or the cracking of ice in the lakes has upon 
any of the wild animals roaming the woods. They 
are familiar sounds, and are not noticed ; but if you 
cough, sneeze, or make the slightest mistake when 
following some tough old caribou over the hills, 
away he will bound, and lucky indeed is the 
sportsman who can overtake him again. I believe 
that not only can salmon hear perfectly well, but 
that they are able to tell what sounds forebode 
danger. I have never taken any while the striking 
of sockets is heard, the firing of guns, the wading 
of horses, or any loud unfamiliar disturbance. 
My advice to all is, when on a pool drop the killick 
gently — be sure that salmon can both see and hear 
you. Do not make a noise ; caution your men not 
to hit the sides of the canoe with their paddles, or 
with their pipes when knocking out the ashes; 
do not raise your voice ; keep quiet ; be as careful as 
if you were stalking some crafty old moose through 
the forest : and then, with a fly well thrown, if you 
fail the fault lies not with the angler. 



85 




THE KELTS 

|HOULD my friends be unfortunate 
enough to hook a kelt, or " slink," as 
they are more familiarly called by 
Cascapedia natives, do not allow the 
canoemen, especially if it be your first fish, to im- 
pose on you this long, thin, attenuated-looking 
creature and gaff him for a bright salmon. If you 
do, there will come over you, while you are being 
poled up the river in the twilight, a feeling of 
doubt and disappointment about the wonderful 
tales you have heard of this bright, leaping fish. 
But the men will say : " Why, he 's all right ! 
That 's a nice salmon, only a little thin ! V and will 
prevail on you to take it to camp to show your 
friends what a beauty you have killed. Do not let 
them play the joke. It is a little trick of theirs 
that they practise on the beginner. 

Kelt is a name given to the salmon which have 
remained in the river all winter, and, when the ice 
melts in the spring, come down on their way to the 
sea. At this time they are very poor and thin, but 



will rise most eagerly, much to the annoyance of 
the angler, as, not being suitable for food, they are 
of little use. Besides, it is not considered sports- 
manlike to kill them, for they are supposed to go 
to the sea, returning the following spring bright, 
beautiful salmon. It takes a long time to play 
them sufficiently, so that one can remove the fly 
without causing any injury; but when this is done, 
rejoicing in their freedom, away they go on their 
happy journey, to return again decked in all their 
silvery hues. The kelts usually say "au revoir" 
for the season from June fifteenth to the twen- 
tieth, to the pleasure of all. 



87 




THE ROCKS 

fOCKS afford a resting-place for salmon 
on their way up the river, and if there 
are none in the pools you are fishing, 
do not fail to have some put in. In 
deep, swift water I have been very successful 
where formerly without the rocks I failed to get 
even a rise, and late in the season salmon have 
been seen lying behind these very same rocks. I 
have always had good results by placing them 
near the shore in three or four feet of water; 
the only difficulty in shallow water is, they are 
apt to be swept away by the ice- jam as it moves 
down the river in the spring. Only a few rocks 
are necessary for each pool. Do not place them in 
line with each other, but scatter them over the 
bottom about thirty or forty feet apart. Should 
the pool be small, two or three are sufficient. If 
more are put in, it is liable to be ruined, because, 
lying close together, they cause a whirling motion 
at the bottom, and salmon very seldom rest in this 
kind of water. 

88 



There is a rock in the Cascapedia called the 
" Heckscher Rock." It may be seen at any ordi- 
nary height of the river as a landmark lying just 
at the water's edge. During a heavy freshet my 
friend, on account of whom the rock has become 
famous, succeeded in enticing from beneath its 
eddies a number of large salmon. As he usually 
finds at high water one or two fish near this rock, 
I decided to place some along the beach, but a 
little farther out in the river, hoping thus to hold 
many more of the first run. I tried the scheme, 
and was delighted with the experiment, for nearly 
every day during the freshet salmon would rise 
along this stretch of water, proving conclusively 
that the rocks are a benefit to some parts of the 
river. 



89 




A TRIP TO RED CAMP 

" 'T was in the summer-time so sweet, 
When hearts and flowers are both in season." 

fOULD you like to go salmon-fishing 

with me I » 
"Of course," replied my friend; 

" I should be delighted." 
So in June, 19 — , our party, consisting of my 
wife, my friend Mr. J. G. Heckscher, two servants, 
and Mixer, an Irish terrier, who was every bit as 
eager for the sport as ourselves, might be seen 
slowly approaching the Cascapedia station. The 
little party, worn out by a fatiguing night's jour- 
ney, were lolling about in their seats, no doubt 
thinking of the many big salmon they were to kill 
and the bright and happy days before them in 
this great wilderness. At the sight of the river 
their drowsiness suddenly disappears ; all fatigue 
is forgotten. Now they are keen, their bodies 
are imbued with new life ; and Mixer, hearing the 
screech of the locomotive, speaks his delight by 
wagging his tail and jumping all over me. The 
90 



small gripsacks are seized, the rods are tenderly 
lifted, and as soon as the train rolls np to the 
station we hasten out of the car, thankful indeed 
to be back again among the dear old mountains. 
Nodding to familiar faces, shaking hands with the 
less timid natives, and giving instructions to the 
servants to follow as quickly as possible with the 
luggage, we jump into the two-seated trap and 
are whirled away for a delightful six miles up the 
valley of the Cascapedia to my fishing-lodge, Red 
Camp. 

What a charming sensation it gives one, as he 
speeds along the road, to inhale the fresh, bracing 
air perfumed with the healing fir and cedar ! No 
cares or troubles to worry about now. They are 
thrown to these delightful breezes, and the faster 
we go the sooner they disappear, until we are well 
content and at peace with all the world. 

On some door-step stands an old man waving 
his hands as we pass, welcoming our return. He 
once loved the sport, and the sight of our merry 
party doubtless brings fresh to his memory the 
happy days of his youth. Farther on a little 
handkerchief flutters in the wind, showing we are 
remembered by some gentle maid who has not 
forgotten a simple act of kindness. It is pleasant 
to have all this greeting, and to feel that we are 
with friends, although many miles separate us from 
our homes. Even the birds seem glad, for as we 
91 



roll along their songs fill the air with welcome. 
And so we drive on, the fair scenery ever changing 
until we reach the top of Woodman's Hill. From 
here one has the first view of Red Camp, standing 
amid the trees in the distance, a silent guard of 
the river. And such tales could it tell of the bat- 
tles with salmon that wise people might say nay ! 
Down the hill we go, rushing across the tumble- 
down bridge that spans White Brook, whose 
waters, clear as crystal, find their way to the 
river ; then up a slight knoll ; and then, with an 
extra crack of the whip, away we speed across the 
plain to a big white gate, which is quickly thrown 
open ; and, pulling up at the door, we are at last at 
Red Camp. 

Oh, how good it is to be back again and once 
more to gaze upon the old red house ! Well have 
its shingles withstood the storms of the winter; 
they seem to grow brighter and brighter at our 
arrival, and the little white linen curtains peeping 
out from the windows add even a greater charm. 
The old tree at the garden, the willows planted 
many years ago — all look fresher and younger. 
Even the river flowing at the foot of the sloping 
field is more beautiful than ever, and the weird 
old mountains surrounding the camp seem to have 
taken on new grandeur; in fact, everything has 
become dearer since I last left this restful spot. 
A feeling of sadness comes over me when I 
92 



Bed Camp 



enter the lodge, for I miss my white fox-terriers, 
Peggy and Jack — my beloved companions on 
many a fishing trip. They were always ready for 
a lark, and every night they would watch for me 
at the landing until I came in from fishing, rejoic- 
ing in having me return so quickly. They can be 
seen in the picture called " Guarding Salmon," and 
they were just as happy in doing anything else 
that was pleasing to me. Both of these little 
friends are now dead, and rest in a quiet corner 
near my home away down by the sea. 

Mixer is a great sport, most affectionate, and a 
good fellow in the canoe. He simply loves to go 
fishing, and will watch the line cutting through 
the water as eagerly and attentively as any of my 
canoemen. When the salmon jumps he seems 
enchanted, and gives a most fascinating little bark. 
But he will never make me forget Peggy and Jack. 
How many a story could I tell of their true 
affection, 

"That love, that strength of feeling, great 
Beyond all human estimate ! " 

But I forbear. 

Having said merry greetings to all our canoe- 
men, who beam with delight at seeing us again, I 
rush into the house, and passing on through the 
dining-room to the kitchen, find Agnes, Mary, and 
Betsy, 1 spick and span in their new frocks, awaiting 

1 Daughters of an early settler on the river, long since deceased. 

93 



our coming. Curtsying in their shy manner, 
they remark : " Grlad to have you back. Hope you 
are well." I am delighted to see them again, and 
after a few remarks about the house I leave my 
wife to continue the conversation, which will no 
doubt end in learning all about the winter's doings 
at the village. I go to the ever interesting old 
fishing-room, where I find my friend already doz- 
ing before a big fireplace in which the logs burn 
bright, sending forth warmth and cheerfulness. 
Some interesting specimens of native skill grace 
the walls — forty- and fifty-pound salmon carved 
in wood, reminding one of many pleasant associa- 
tions. One model of forty-two pounds brings vividly 
to memory the triumphs of a fair maiden whose 
charming visits to the camp will never be forgotten. 

" Wake up, Johnny; it is time to go fishing ! " 

" Are we going to try this afternoon 1 " It is an 
anxious voice that speaks. 

"Try? Indeed we are!" I exclaim. "Nothing 
in the world shall keep me from doing honor to 
the beautiful river this afternoon. Let us have a 
look and see if there is any chance." So out of the 
house we go a short distance down the path to the 
bank, where we find the canoemen ready and dis- 
cussing the prospects for sport. 

"River's too high; too many stones running," 
says Harrison. A look of distress comes over my 
friend's face. 

94 



Guarding Salmon 

These salmon were killed in two days. They ran from 
twenty to forty-four pounds 



" But," I insist, " don't yon think that back of 
the island, in that still place where the current 
runs so slowly, we might pull out something? 
There must be a salmon resting there, and also 
at the head of Barter's, on the shoal; that ought 
surely to be good for a fish. Then there is Hamil- 
ton Beach. I believe Mr. Heckscher can get a 
salmon close inshore by the rock; no stones are 
running there." 

After discussing the subject the men decide 
it would not be a bad idea to go. So we return 
to the house; rods, reels, lines, and leaders are 
brought out and given to the men to be rigged, 
with instructions to soak the leaders while we go 
to adorn ourselves with our Lovat mixture suit- 
able for the sport. 

Presently luncheon is announced, and three 
anglers, with appetite sharpened by the pleasant 
drive up the valley, sit down to one of Agnes's 
delightful little feasts. I try to help in the con- 
versation, but my heart is in that quiet pool away 
down back of the island. Making some excuse, 
Mixer and I depart. From a cupboard in the cor- 
ner of the fishing-room I bring forth my big green 
tin box and carefully raise the lid. Behold my 
plumed knights ! They surpass in their beauty the 
dazzling costumes of Oriental princes. Tucked 
away in a little partition are three conquering war- 
riors whose armor, once bright as silver, shows 
95 



signs of mortal combats. In another part lies a 
faded " Fairy " who gallantly won her fight at the 
Pool in the "Woods. One dark, fascinating little 
fisher-maiden, lying alone in her glory, might tell 
how she wooed and won the grand old king him- 
self ; and many a battered knight shows the marks 
of struggles long ago. 

I select some large-sized " Silver Grays," newly 
decked in all their glorious colors, and hasten to 
the landing, where I find my men waiting. As I 
am about to step into the canoe I hear some one 
calling, and, turning, see my friend Napoleon, 1 with 
rod on his shoulder, coming down the path toward 
the shore. "I, too, have the fever!" he exclaims. 

" Q-ood for you ! Hurry up and we will paddle 
down together." With canoes locked, we glide 
along, occasionally bumping against each other in 
the swiftly running current, too happy to speak, 
but realizing that again we are on the Grand Cas- 
capedia. As we paddle along, hundreds of swallows 
peep out from their dark nests in the banks, and a 
few Jerseys are seen grazing in the green fields of 
the Milligans at the foot of the stately mountains 
not far away. It is said that the old man's ghost 
may often be seen at night walking up the valley 
to his house, and there are tales of other wonderful 
doings across the river. But there is no more time 
for romancing now, for yonder lies the island. 

1 J. G. Heekscher. 

96 



With "Au revoir" and "Good luck!" I leave my 
friend to continue onward to the beach, while my 
canoemen send our frail little craft skipping across 
the current toward the shore, and gently drop the 
killick in the pool back of the island. 

"If there are any salmon here, James, they 
should be close to the shore just above the rapids 
— don't you think so ? " 

"Yes, but they might be a little farther out. 
The water is n't very swift." 

"I should try both sides," exclaimed William. 
" You can't tell where they are when the water is 
high like this. They might be right in those bushes 
there. Didn't I tell you?" as a large fish threw 
himself clear of the water. 

" What a fine salmon ! " exclaimed James. " He 
must have just come up the rapids. Better try 
him at once." 

Rising from my seat, with knees and arms steady, 
I commence getting out the right length of line. 

" Now be careful," says James, " and hook him." 

When the 5/0 Silver Gray goes back for the last 
time the rod springs forward, sending the big gray 
fly swiftly through the air and dropping it about 
eight feet to the left of the place where the salmon 
rose. Hardly have I moved it when James shouts : 
"He's on; strike hard!" Up goes the rod, and 
I know he is fast. The killick is pulled in, poles 
are seized, and all await the combat. Quickly it 
97 



begins, for the salmon, with a grand rush, is at the 
head of the pool. Ten feet more and he will be in the 
bushes ; but, suddenly turning, back he comes with 
the speed of the wind, stopping to sulk a short dis- 
tance above the rapids. 

" Now is our chance, James, to get below him ! " 

Carefully we drop the canoe and, lowering my 
rod, pull sideways at the fish. With a mighty whirl 
and rush, away he goes down the run to the pool 
below. 

" That fish '11 weigh forty pounds," said William. 
" I saw his tail." 

Oh, ye gods ! Why, William, did you say it ? 
Until then I was cool and enjoying the sport ; but 
now, at the vision of a forty-pounder, my first fish 
of the season, my knees are trembling and quaking. 

" Will I save him, James f " 

"Well, I suppose so; but you must hold him 
harder than that or you '11 never get him in." 

" Now he is close ; look sharp and see if he is 
large." 

" My gracious ! he '11 weigh fifty pounds ! " 

Fifty pounds ! Is it possible my dream of many 
years is to be realized ? Managing to steady my- 
self, I pull a little harder, when William, looking 
into the depths of the muddy water, shouts : " I 
saw him again ; I believe he 's a slink ! " "A 
slink ! " I exclaim. Only a slink, and but a moment 
since a glorious fifty-pounder ! What a disappoint- 



Our Canoemen 



ment ! Now my courage returns ; I spring the 
rod a little more, and he is soon brought to gaff — 
a fresh-run fish. In goes the steel, and a twenty- 
eight-pound salmon lies quivering in the canoe. 

"My, but I thought that a big salmon when I 
saw his tail! " said William. 

" I did n't think it was very large," replied the 
sagacious James. "You know the water is so 
muddy you can't see anything." 

" Well, here 's luck, anyway, to the first of the 
season ! Don't you think we had better try one or 
two drops at the head of Barter's Pool ? It is on 
our way up, and we shall have time enough." 

" We might get a fish," replies James ; " suppose 
we do try." 

Poling to the head, we anchor at the little bar 
where the river, running swiftly, broadens into 
a deep pool by the trees. As it is not quite so 
muddy here, a smaller Silver Gray, No. 3/0 is put 
on; and casting to the right and left until about 
sixty feet of line is spinning through the air, I drop 
for another try, without any luck. As we are now 
getting into deeper water, I change to the 5/0; 
forth it goes again, with prayers for success. 
Before it has got half-way across the pool, out 
comes one of the shining beauties, saying, " Nay, 
nay," and quickly returning beneath the water. 
Again and again the cast is made, but not being in 
an inquisitive mood, the fish vanishes up-stream to 
99 



join his fleeing companions. By this time my 
friend is coming in the distance. Pulling up traps, 
•we go ashore to await his arrival. Presently he 
appears, beaming with smiles, so I know some- 
thing has happened. 

" I have one ! " he shouts ; and by the time his 
canoe is abreast we have heard all about the kill- 
ing, and the big one at the rock, which rose three 
times, and at last just touched the fly. 

" What a grand fish ! " I exclaim. " Such a per- 
fect head; so different from mine with his big 
hook — but the female fish are always more beauti- 
ful. Do you know the weight 1 " 

" Just thirty pounds," replied my friend. 

" I am delighted you had luck." 

" Why, my dear fellow, the dream of my life is 
realized. To see these enormous fish rise is well 
worth the journey up here, and I am greatly in- 
debted to you for much happiness." 

" Oh, bother the indebtedness ! To-morrow you 
will get a bigger one. Let us be off now, and see 
how comfortable old Red Camp is by firelight." So 
the stalwart natives, taking off their coats, seize 
their poles, while the tired and happy anglers are 
lulled to sleep by the gentle motion of the canoes 
moving slowly along in the gloaming toward 
camp. In the stillness of the night a delightful 
bark is heard. Mixer has recognized the sound 
of the sockets, and is coming to the landing 
100 



to meet us. It is his pleasure, so I caress the little 
fellow as he leads us to the house. 

"I know you have got some fish, for you are 
both beaming," remarks Mrs. Davis, as we approach 
the veranda. 

" Splendid sport — glorious ! If I do not kill 
any more I am satisfied," replies Napoleon. 

" Oh, but you will get many more before you 
leave. Will he not, Ned ? » 

" Of course he will, and, it is three to one, a 
forty-pounder. But is it not dinner-time? It 
must be nearly nine." 

" As soon as you are ready," replies Mrs. Davis, 
" dinner will be served." 

" Do not be long, old man ; hurry, now ! " 

In a few minutes the mighty angler returns, the 
Lovat mixture discarded, and arrayed in some- 
thing more comfortable. The little party now 
saunters gaily to the dining-room, where an hour is 
pleasantly spent in the dim light of a few candles, 
whose decorations — the tiny red shades — cast 
their glow upon our charming hostess as we listen 
to her amusing conversation. Then, returning to 
the fishing-room, Mixer and I take possession of 
the big black settle at the fireplace to dream awhile 
of dear faces which used to gladden the camp at 
night, telling stories and singing songs of praise 
for some good old angler long since gone across 
the Big River. 

101 



" I beg your pardon, Heck ; I was nearly asleep. 
Let us divide the water into three parts for to- 
morrow's fishing, and have the drawing now, for 
I am off to bed." 

The slips are cut and marked 1, 2, 3, then placed 
in a hat and handed to Mrs. Davis, who after some 
persuasion is prevailed upon to draw first. Then 
my friend pulls out No. 3, and I am left the 
same water I had to-day. 

" Just what you both wish. And now good night. 
Will see you at eight-o'clock breakfast; am too 
tired to sit up any longer." Presenting my friend 
with a big red candlestick, we leave our cheerful 
room to dream of happy doings on the morrow. 



102 




THE SECOND DAY 

HAT is the largest fish I have ever 
seen ! " and just as James is about to 
lift it into the canoe there is a rap on 
the bedroom door. 



" My thoughts by day, my dreams by night, 
Are but of thee, of only thee." 

" Time to get up, sir ! " calls my servant. " Mr. 
Heckscher is dressed, and wants to know if you 
will be ready soon." 

"Tell him I will be down at once, and not to 
wait breakfast." Going to my dressing-room, I find 
the cold tub ready before the burning logs; so, 
with a short pull at the weights and a plunge, I 
am soon dressed and join my friend out on the ve- 
randa. " Good morning, Heck ; did you sleep well ? " 

" Oh, splendidly ! But let us breakfast now, for 
I am wild to be out on the river again. How is 
Mrs. Davis ? Are we not to have her company ? " 

" I do not think so. She is a bit tired from yes- 
terday's trip. I left her sleeping. Her pools are 
103 



only a short distance above the house, so she 
probably will not fish before ten." 

" By Jove, these eggs are good ! "When did yon 
become an expert with the chafing-dish?" asks 
Napoleon. 

" Oh, I always nse it up here. I find the eggs 
much better when you cook them yourself." 

" The finnan-haddie with the cream is delicious." 

"It is good, is it not? Dalzell sends me the 
haddie every week, and Agnes furnishes the won- 
derful cream from her celebrated stock. I will 
show you the Jerseys when we are out walking 
some day. She has also a lot of young lambs and 
chickens, and so arranges that they are always 
young — especially the chickens, which are never 
over six weeks old. Whether it is a mathematical 
problem she figures out during the winter I can- 
not say, but I know they are always on hand and 
most tender eating. You must not fail to visit 
Betsy's delightful little vegetable- and flower-gar- 
den before you leave. Praise it well, for every 
day while you are here your room will be deco- 
rated with some delicate attention from the cher- 
ished garden — sometimes an enormous bunch of 
bleeding-hearts, to remind you of a slight regret." 

"I have nothing to regret," laughs my friend, 
rising from the table. " Eead the new book which 
tells us to make life happy as we live — not to call 
up the past. It is gone, so let it rest." 
104 



" That is true," I reply ; " but I have found so 
very little real friendship in my life, I am afraid I 
shall always be romancing about some pleasant 
association, like the person who refused to forget 
the old love for the new : 

'I '11 not forget, Old Year, 

The days that used to be ; 
But when the spring returns I '11 twine, 
With sweetest flowers, a wreath for thee. 

' Then in the paths we used to roam, 
Where mignonettes and lilies lie, 
I '11 muse upon the happy past, 

And fondly dream of days gone by.' " 

"You are quite right," replies my friend, "if 
you wish to worry and be lonely. But enough of 
poetry this morning ! The world is all too beauti- 
ful up here to think of anything except the casting 
of the fly." 

" Hello, Mixer ! Why so late ? Has the journey 
tired you? Would you like to go fishing? All 
right, old boy. We shall be off soon. Will meet 
you, Heck, at Harrison's for luncheon at one 
o'clock. You had better start at once, as the men 
tell me the river has fallen five inches. You will 
not have any time to spare if you intend fishing 
all of Hamilton's. Have you the right flies 
with you ? " 

105 



" Yes, the same I used yesterday." 

" Take a few No. 2/0. The water will be a little 
clearer to-day, and you may need them." 

" I have some in my fly-book, thanks." 

So they start off again, Napoleon and his men 
sauntering joyfully down the path. For a few 
minutes I stand gazing at his canoe passing in the 
distance, wondering why it is that the charm of 
angling more than any other sport " doth for a 
time all sorrow heal." 

"Can't you be patient, Mixer? "We will start 
presently. I must first go up and tell the missus 
it is time to be out on the pool. 

' Wake thee, my dear — thy dreaming 

Till darker hours will keep ; 
While such a sun is shining 
Thou shouldst be on the deep.' 

" Are you up ! " I call. " It is a most glorious 
day ; the sun is already coming up over the moun- 
tain and will soon be shining on the Judge's, so 
you had better make haste if you wish to be in 
time. Tim and Robert are waiting for you on the 
lawn, and look the picture of despair." 

" Oh, are they ? Tell them I shall soon be ready, 
and to put my cane-rod together — the light one." 

" Do you wish anything else ? " 

" Nothing, thanks." 

106 



Suffolk Mixer 



"You will find all the flies and leaders you 
need in the tin box. Mixer and I are off now; 
we are to join Mr. Heckscher at luncheon down by 
Harrison's. Are you coming ? " 

" Not to-day, thanks. It is so far to pole back, I 
should lose all my fishing." 

" Now I am ready, Mixer. Come, old boy ! " And 
off he scampers to the landing, where I find him 
comfortably seated in the canoe. " Sit here by 
me and keep quiet, old fellow! As soon as 
we hook a salmon you may be as joyful as 
you like. 

" Do you think, James, there is any use trying 
back of the island ? » 

" Not to-day, sir ; the water has fallen so much, 
it is too shallow in there. Barter's should be 
good, though. You had better whip that over on 
our way to Smith's." Dropping a little farther 
down the pool than yesterday, the canoe is again 
silently anchored. 

" Did you see that fish jump ? " shouted William. 

" No ; where ? I was getting a fly." 

" My, but he was a big one ! That was a forty- 
pound salmon." 

" Are you quite sure it was not a slink f " 

" A slink ! No, sir. No slink about that ; he 
was too wide." 

" What say you, James ? Can we prove it ? " 

11 The only way is to hook him, sir." 
107 



"What — now?" 

" Not now, sir. We might get another before 
we reach that one." 

"What fly shall I use?" 

" Try that Silver Gray I made. The one with 
the wood-duck wing — about 3/0. That is large 
enough, and if they won't take that there 's no 
use fishing." 

" Well, here goes your fly, James, and may suc- 
cess reward your skill." 

Eepeatedly it is cast forth and drawn across the 
current in all kinds of ways, without causing 
the slightest longing in those game uncertainties 
below. 

" What is the trouble, James ? I made a good 
cast over that salmon." 

" Perhaps you don't wiggle my flies just right 
this season." 

" Do you think you could do better ? " 

" Well, I might try, sir." 

" Take the rod, then, and see what you can bring 
forth." 

" That is a good hook," remarks James, as he 
carefully brushes back the feathers; "a salmon 
ought to take that"; and away it goes, darting 
quickly through the breeze. 

" I thought you did n't wiggle it right ! " ex- 
claimed James, as he drove the hook home in a big 
salmon which leisurely rolled up. 
108 



" That is all luck, James ; that salmon has just 
worked into the pool." 

" Never mind, sir ; I 've got him on." 

" Yes, and you must play him also." 

" I can't, sir : the water is too swift ; I have the 
canoe to manage." 

By the time I have taken the rod the salmon is 
thirty yards away. Mixer is enchanted at the 
prospect of a race down the river. 

" That fish is bound for the bay," exclaims Wil- 
liam, as he gives an extra stroke with the paddle. 

Faster and faster we glide along in our endeavor 
to overtake the salmon, while Mixer, wild with 
excitement, is urging on the men by the music of 
his delightful yelp. Every muscle is strained now 
to win a grand victory. 

" Look out for that log ! " shouts James, as the 
salmon runs close to the shore. "Keep her off 
more. Paddle faster and get below the fish." 

Down the current we rush past the big rocks, 
when William, quickly turning the canoe, sends 
it safely into the still water. There, after a few 
minutes' fight, the salmon is brought to gaff. 

" Thirty-one pounds — and what a dear ! " 

" As we have come so far, I think it best to go 
and see what Mr. Heckscher is doing; the other 
pools can be fished after luncheon." 

" We do feel a little weak at the stomach after 
the race, sir," reply the men. 
109 



Drifting around a bend in the river, we come 
upon Napoleon fast to a fish. 

" He must be big, the way he is acting," exclaims 
William. " He keeps going up the river, and Mr. 
Heckscher is pulling him hard, too. Now he is 
going back a little! Yes, he is leading him all 
right now! He'll have him soon if everything 
holds. Yes, there goes the gaff! That's the 
biggest fish this year ! " 

"When we reach the canoe the weight is known — 
forty pounds, the largest salmon my friend has 
ever killed. Of course Napoleon was delighted; 
he never ceased singing anthems until I made the 
men gather some green ferns, and, carefully plac- 
ing them over the Silver Queen, bear her away 
gently to the opposite shore, where she received 
honors worthy her station. 

"The men usually lunch by one, Heck; and as 
it is now past twelve, you will not have much time 
to fish if you go back to the pool." 

" Very well ; let us have luncheon now, for this 
bracing air has already attacked me." 

Spreading the white cloth smoothly upon the 
bank, we are soon seated and going over the story 
of the big salmon at Hamilton's Beach. 

" The men must be a bit eager to-day, Heck. 

They are already returning. Here comes Peter 

Coull — one of Mr. Kennedy's canoemen and the 

bear-hunter of the river. Let us ask him to join 

110 



us in a smoke and hear something about bear- 
shooting." 

"Certainly; ask him. I should like to know 
him." 

"How are you, Peter? Am glad to see you 
again. Have you had a good winter ? " 

" Oh, fairly, sir. Logging and trapping do not 
bring much comfort, but I have been in pretty 
good health, so I can't complain. Any salmon this 
morning ? " 

"Yes. This is my friend Mr. Heckscher; he 
has just killed a forty-pounder, and I a thirty- 
one." 

" That is good to begin with." 

" Mr. Heckscher wishes to go bear-hunting some 
day. What do you think the chances are f " 

"It is easy enough to get a bear in a trap," 
replied Peter, "but the leaves are too thick for 
still-hunting at this time of the year. There should 
be a bear in my trap now. I set it last week 
beyond that hill to the west. Will send the boy 
over to-morrow and see if there is one ; then, if 
Mr. Heckscher wishes, Sunday we can go and 
shoot him. It 's the only day I have, as the rest 
of the week I am fishing." 

" I should like to go very much, Peter," replies 
my friend, " but I would prefer that you do the 
shooting, as I am not at all anxious to distinguish 
myself as a trap-shot." 

Ill 



" All right, sir ; I will kill him. I shoot them, 
anyway. If you really wish good bear-hunting, 
you must come up here in September. Then they 
are on the mountains eating berries, and it is 
easier to get close to them without being seen. It 
will be necessary to camp out, of course ; but the 
weather is usually mild, and if you don't mind the 
camping you will have some good sport. "We could 
also go up to the lake and have a little moose- 
hunting. There are a good many about the head 
waters, and I am sure you would get a fine head. 
It is a delightful trip to take — only three days 
poling. After the moose-hunt we will run down 
to the bay and have a try at the brant and geese. 
We would keep you busy if you wish to shoot, 
hey, James ? " 

" That we would, Peter ; and a grand time Mr. 
Heckscher would have, too." 

" I am sure of that," replied my friend ; " and I 
thank you both very much for your willingness to 
show me the treasures of your country. You 
make the pictures so charming that I am almost 
tempted to make the Cascapedia my home." 

"If you did, sir, you would live ten years 
longer." 

" Heaven forbid, Peter, that my friends should 
suffer such an affliction." 

"In a few days, Mr. Heckscher, you will see 
thousands of brant away up in the sky coming 
112 



straight up the river, and when they get as far as 
that mountain on the left they will turn and go 
directly north. I have often wondered why they 
come away up here and turn instead of making a 
diagonal course, which would be much shorter." 

"The flight of ducks, geese, and all migratory 
birds, Peter, is a most interesting study. The 
brant, like the geese, have'no doubt certain moun- 
tains, lakes, or rivers which they recognize in their 
flight, and in this way are able to continue onward 
to their homes in the north. Probably the moun- 
tain to the left is one of their landmarks." 

" Heck, I am sorry to interrupt this interesting 
conversation, but there are two salmon jumping 
on the other side a little lower down in the pool 
than where you killed the queen this morning. 
Perhaps they will take the fly now — I advise you 
to start at once." 

" Are you not going ? " asked Napoleon. 

" Yes, just as soon as Mixer can be persuaded to 
stop eating. In his gastronomic feats he seems to 
excel all the canine family. But I would rather 
lose a bit of fishing than deprive the little fellow 
of his happiness. You will have to pole up alone 
this afternoon, Heck, as I am going early to see 
Mrs Davis kill a salmon." 

" Never mind me," replies my friend ; " I shall 
not be lonely. The Silver Queen is to accompany 
me in the twilight, and perhaps two or three of 
113 



her maids of honor will condescend to grace the 
canoe." 

"I hope you will not be disappointed. May your 
vision of the royal court not turn out to be a fairy- 
tale and some fair goddess change them into slinks 
before you arrive at camp." 

" Oh, that would be humiliating," replies Napo- 
leon, smiling, as he pushes away from the bank. 

" What a delightful afternoon for fishing, James ! 
It makes one feel as though life were worth living." 

" It does now, sir ; but if you were here cutting 
logs all winter you would n't think life worth 
much by the time you had finished in the spring. 
It is mighty hard work and little joy for the men 
with big families. Hello ! got a salmon on? " 

" Yes ; he took the fly very quietly under water. 
I am afraid he is not well hooked." 

" Whew, what a jump ! Was n't that glorious ! 
There he goes again ! Mr. Heckscher would enjoy 
that." 

" Indeed he would, William. Now is your chance 
to gaff him. That is too bad — you missed the 
fish." 

" He turned too quickly, sir ; could n't do it." 

"Here he comes again; now you try him, 
James." 

" He has gone ! " I cry ; and, with a flop of his big 
tail, the bright creature turns on his side and dis- 
appears beneath the swift, dark water. 
114 



"That was a big salmon, sir; sorry you lost 
him." 

" We cannot save them all, James, you know." 

" I know that, sir ; but I always like to get the 
first fish in a new pool — it 's lucky, sir." 

" I have had enough sport to-day, anyhow. Let 
us go to camp now and take our traps to the 
house ; then we can pole up to the Judge's." 

As we pole along, frantic gestures are made by 
the occupants of the little green canoe quietly 
anchored in the shade of the overhanging trees. 
" What is the matter, James ! " 

" They probably have seen a salmon, sir, and 
wish us to keep back." 

Holding the canoe, we await results. Presently 
the cause of their excitement appears. A large 
fish rises near the shore, and, seizing the fly, with 
a big plunge starts down the river. " Bravo ! " we 
shout as their canoe goes flying past. 

" Hold him hard ! " I cry. 

At the head of the rapids the salmon suddenly 
turns, and, jumping three feet into the air, goes 
back to sulk in the deep water of the pool. The 
canoe is stopped, the slack line reeled in, and the 
little cane-rod bent double in the effort to start 
him again on another wild race. 

" Lower the rod and pull sideways," I shout ; 
" you may be able to move him that way." The 
little trick is tried, and proves too successful, for 
115 



the salmon, with another big jump, bids us fare- 
well and darts up-stream to his freedom. 

"Oh, he has gone — he has gone!" cries Mrs. 
Davis, as the Silver Doctor comes drifting back. 
" It is all your fault, Ned, telling me to pull side- 
ways. I knew it would twist the hook out of his 
mouth. And he was such a large fish ! Tim said 
he would weigh over forty pounds. I am simply 
heart-broken." 

"Never mind; we are awfully sorry you had 
such bad luck ; but James says if you had used one 
of his Silver Grays the salmon would have been 
more eager and better hooked." 

" Tell James he is mistaken. I did try a Silver 
Gray, and he would not touch it." 

"What ! refused the Silver Gray?" 

"Yes." 

"Well, then, it must have been a big slink, 
James says, if he would n't take his fly ; so you 
had better not worry any more." 

" It was not a slink, and you know it." 

"Oh, I was only chaffing you. As I have 
brought you bad luck, perhaps it will change if I 
go back to the house for a little rest." 

"You need not do that on my account, but please 
never again tell me to pull sideways, for I never 
shall." 

Mixer and I, having returned to camp, are soon 
awakened from our doze before the fireplace by the 
116 



Two Days' Fishing 

These salmon ran from twenty to forty-two pounds 



return of the happy anglers, and, going to the 
door, we find five large salmon lying in front of 
the veranda. 

" I coaxed one maid of honor, Ned, and also a 
grand old courtier to accompany me," said Napo- 
leon. 

" Yes, I see you have ; but what an odd knight ! " 

" He is not remarkably good to look at, and was 
evidently barred from the king's court," replied 
Napoleon ; " but he made a splendid fight for his 
life." 

"I could not coax any more," remarked Mrs. 
Davis, " although one little fish about twenty-five 
pounds did make a feeble attempt to come to the 
surface." 

"You have both done well, considering the 
height of the water, and six salmon to-day are 
enough. What do yours weigh, Heck ? " 

"Forty, twenty-eight, and twenty-six pounds; 
but please do something to me at once, so that I 
may know it is not a dream ; for I have never passed 
a happier day. How beautiful they are, lying 
there ! Is it any wonder we all love the grand 
sport ? What weight are your fish, Mrs. Davis ? " 
asked Napoleon. 

"Thirty-two and twenty-seven pounds; but I 
lost a larger one than your forty-pounder through 
Ned's nonsense." 

"You can tell Mr. Heckscher all about it at 
117 



dinner ; but let us hasten now and get ready, for 
it is late." 

Dinner finished, a few happy thoughts are ex- 
changed in the fishing-room around a cheerful 
fire, and our angling friend again takes the big 
red candlestick and departs for the night. 



118 




THE THIRD DAY 

|0 you think we shall equal yesterday's 
score 1 " asked Napoleon, as he came 
in from a short walk ready for break- 
fast. 

" You will have lots of water to try," I replied, 
" for to-day I am going up to the club, so you and 
Mrs. Davis can fish all the pools. I doubt if you 
will have time enough, but it is pleasant to know 
one has a long stretch. I must be off now, as my 
men will be there by the time I arrive. Am sorry 
I am not allowed to take you with me, Heck." 

" Do not trouble yourself about me. I am quite 
satisfied here, thanks." 

Jumping into the mud-stained buckboard, with 
Edward to drive the old white mare, we are soon 
rattling over a fair country road which meanders 
a short distance through the sweet-smelling forest. 
" How fragrant the air is this morning, Edward ! 
It must come straight from heaven." 

" Don't know much about that place, sir ; but it 
ought to be good if it comes from there. It is 
healthy, though, to be up early and smell the 
119 



woods ; there 's lots of healing balm in those cedars 
and firs." 

" I suppose you know the names of all the trees 
and bushes up here, do you not ! " 

" Pretty much, sir ; you soon learn them, after 
you 've chopped awhile." 

" There is the club-house ! " I exclaim, as we come 
in sight of the low, flat building in the distance. 
" What a pretty picture it makes, lying close to 
the river with the mountains around ! " 

" Yes ; a fine place that, sir." 

" How are you, Daniel f Have any of the mem- 
bers arrived ? " 

" Not yet, Mr. Davis ; you are the first. I be- 
lieve Dr. Mitchell and Mr. Cadwallader are coming 
to-morrow." 

"Are they? I am glad they are arriving so 
early. How does it look up here to-day, James ? " 

" Eiver pretty high, sir; don't you think so ? " 

" Yes, it is a bit high ; but we must manage in 
some way to have the canoe a little heavier when 
we run down this evening." 

" We '11 do our best, sir." 

"Am glad to see you back again, Mr. Davis," 
calls out Berchavais, the head guard of the river, 
as he comes down to the bank. 

" Thanks, Berchavais ; am glad to see you. It 
does not seem as if a year had passed since we were 
out on the river." 

120 



The Cascapedia Club-house in the Distance 



" I suppose it does go by much quicker with you, 
sir, thau with us up here in the woods. Are you 
going to try the tuna this year 1 There were lots 
of them last August in the Gaspe Bay. If you 
should get one of six hundred pounds you might 
enjoy the sport more than salmon-fishing." 

" Am quite sure I never could do that, Bercha- 
vais. Mr. Heckscher, who came up with me, has 
brought a tuna outfit, and may try for them, but I 
doubt if I shall; I prefer keeping to my dear 
friends the salmon, rather than forming new ac- 
quaintances who might make me trouble. Have 
you seen any salmon in the pools near the club- 
house 1 " 

" Not to-day, sir ; but yesterday O'Neill saw two 
jump in the Tent Pool and one at the lower part 
of the Rock." 

" That is good news, even if we do not get any." 

" Oh, but I think you will have some sport to- 
day." 

u Let us start, then, James, and see if we can cap- 
ture some of these newly arrived friends." 

In an hour's time the Tent has been thoroughly 
whipped, and two fine fish — twenty-nine and 
twenty-six pounds — are left in the icy water, tied 
to an alder on the bank, to be gathered on our re- 
turn at night. Both sides of the Rock Pool are 
now tried, and away down on the right a thirty- 
one-pound fish is killed. 

121 



" The river is too high for good fishing, sir," re- 
marks James. " You should have had five salmon 
by this time." 

" Well, two more will satisfy me." 

" You are sure to get them, sir," says "William. 

" If I do I will make you a present. But let us 
lunch before we try again ; I was up early this morn- 
ing, and am greedy, like the last salmon we killed. 
Here 's success to the two salmon, William ! " 

The little flask is returned to the luncheon-bas- 
ket, and, lighting our pipes, we again start out for 
the afternoon's sport. 

" James, I feel that a quiet smoke and seeing you 
kill a salmon would be more restful than casting 
the fly so soon after my luncheon ; the water is not 
very swift here, and if William needs any assist- 
ance I will help him manage the canoe." 

" All right, sir ; I would like to try. Have n't 
killed a salmon for a long time." 

" Here is the rod, then, and bring back a big one." 

" I rose one, sir; think I '11 hook him next time. 
Yes, there he is again. He 's got it, sir ! " 

A big plunge, and away we go scudding down 
the river. 

" This is fun, is n't it, William S " 

" Oh, it 's grand sport ! " 

" Lead him around this way, James, when you 
get a chance, and I will gaff him." 

" That 's it. Pull harder, Mr. Davis ; he '11 slip 
122 



off the gaff. Just in time, sir," as the twenty-seven- 
pound salmon tumbled into the canoe. 

" My quiet smoke was not a success, for I have 
n't seen my pipe since you first hooked the fish. 
One more salmon, William, and you win." 

" No doubt of that, sir ; just below that tree on 
the right there is one waiting for me." 

Dropping down gently, the fly is drawn slowly 
across the dark eddy, when a bright streak shoots 
forth, and we soon have a twenty-one-pound sal- 
mon to complete the score. 

" William wins," I exclaim, " and I have had 
enough sport for to-day." 

The day is finished, the pools have been fished, 
and five salmon lie nestling in our canoe as we 
head the little cedar toward home. Passing the 
men's cabin, a joyful tune is heard coming from 
within, showing that there are other hearts up in 
the wilderness made glad at the coming of the 
anglers. As I approach the landing Mrs. Davis 
and Napoleon are gaziug at three large salmon 
lying on the bank. " How many ? " they both ask 
as they come toward the canoe. 

" Five — from twenty-one to thirty-one pounds. 
And what have you been doing ? " 

"Mrs. Davis has killed two fine fish," replies 
Napoleon, "thirty-three and twenty-nine pounds; 
and I one of twenty-eight." 

" So you could not win another queen to-day % " 
123 



"No," replied Napoleon, "I almost had the honor. 
She lifted her beautiful head above the surface, but 
as soon as she saw us she immediately declined 
all further acquaintance." 

" Perhaps you were not very gallant." 

" Oh, pardon me, I was most gallant ; probably 
we were not looked upon with favor, for she did 
not seem anxious to be wooed." 

" Wait until the first of July and be my guest at 
the club, and then I will show you salmon-fishing 
such as you have never dreamed of." 

" You are very kind, but I am afraid I shall be 
obliged to go home before that time." 

" Did you see that brilliant meteor, Mrs. Davis, 
which just flashed through the heavens?" re- 
marked Napoleon, as we strolled toward the 
house. " It was most beautiful." 

" No, I did not ; I was watching the fireflies, and 
wondering for what purpose they are in the world. 
What strange little creatures they are ! " 

" Meteors and fireflies always remind me," I re- 
marked, " of Thomas Moore's ballad, l The Lake of 
the Dismal Swamp.' Have you ever read it, Heck ? " 

" No, I never have." 

" You should read it, Mr. Heckscher ! " exclaimed 
Mrs. Davis.' "It is lovely; only I fancy your 
dreams will be of ghosts and goblins rather than 
of roses." 

"What is it about, Ned?" 
124 



" Do you really wish to hear ? " I asked. 

" Yes ; of course I do," replied Napoleon. 

" The story is about a young man who became 
insane when he heard that his sweetheart was dead. 
Thinking she had gone to the Dismal Swamp, he 
followed her and was lost. I have always remem- 
bered some of the lines. Here are a few : 

' They made her a grave, too cold and damp 

For a soul so warm and true ; 
And she 's gone to the Lake of the Dismal Swamp, 
Where, all night long, by a firefly lamp, 

She paddles her white canoe. 

' And her firefly lamp I soon shall see, 
And her paddle I soon shall hear/ 

These are all I know, Heck, except the last three 
verses. If you wish to hear any more, and are not 
afraid of the ghosts, I will continue." 

"It is not very amusing to be cut off in the 
midst of a ballad," replies my friend, " is it, Mrs. 
Davis ! " 

" Oh, I do not know why Ned wishes to memo- 
rize such sad and doleful lines! He is always 
quoting about phantoms just at this time of night, 
which is enough to frighten people out of their 
wits. You may recite the remaining verses to Mr. 
Heckscher if you wish, but I am going in. I can- 
not hear anything more about the Dismal Swamp 
to-night; I should n't sleep a wink." 
125 



" Never mind, Heck ; I will tell you how the tale 
ended : 

' He saw the Lake, and a meteor hright 

Quick o'er its surface play'd — 
" Welcome," he said, " my dear one's light ! " 
And the dim shore echoed, for many a night, 
The name of the death-cold maid : 

' Till he hollow'd a boat of the birchen bark, 
Which carried him off from shore ; 
Far, far he follow'd the meteor spark, 
The wind was high and the clouds were dark, 
And the boat return'd no more. 

' But oft, from the Indian hunter's camp, 

The lover and maid so true 
Are seen at the hour of midnight damp 
To cross the Lake by a firefly lamp, 

And paddle their white canoe.' " 

" That is very interesting ; but why do you not 
learn all the verses ? " 

"The other part does not appeal to me; but 
the canoe, the hunter's camp, the fireflies, the lake, 
all remind me of my surroundings and are asso- 
ciated with my life in the woods. Tom Moore's 
works are in the house, and you can read the tale 
if you wish. Now let us go in as it is time for 
dinner." 

"Has Ned bored you with his ballad?" asks 
Mrs. Davis, as we enter. 

126 



Bed Camp Pool 

This picture shows my son tilling a salmon in Red 
Camp Pool. It is the only photograph I have ever 
seen of a salmon jumping during the killing. The fish 
is the little white streak close to the bank on the left 
side of the picture, but in an enlarged photograph of 
the same it is as distinct as the figures in the canoe. 



II ; 

- 



" Ob, no ; I quite agree with you it is lovely, but 
I sincerely hope the 'lover and maid' will not 
' paddle their white canoe ' across Eed Camp Pool 
to-night, for it is my turn to fish it in the morning." 

" What splendid sport you had to-day ! " remarks 
Napoleon, as we are sitting about the cozy fire in 
the fishing-room after dinner, puffing the soothing 
tobacco. 

" Yes, I did have sport. But, do you know, in 
fishing the killing is most distasteful to me. The 
part I like is to see the salmon rise and to know they 
are hooked ; after that I do not really enjoy it, for I 
cannot get over the thought that it seems cruel to 
torture these beautiful creatures. Yet I go on day 
after day killing salmon, with that unpleasant 
little feeling always present." 

" I suppose," replies my friend, " most anglers do 
at times regret taking the life of these game fish ; 
but as they are good for food and probably suffer 
no great bodily pain, we should not cultivate the 
romantic view." 

" Perhaps that is true, Heck; but it is hard for 
me not to do so. I have the same thought about 
flowers : I love to see them growing, to inhale their 
perfume; but to pluck them and have them wither 
and die makes me feel as though a sweet life had 
been injured. ' I loved the rose, and left it on its 
stem,' says Landor." 

" It does not seem right," replies Napoleon, " that 
127 



everything beautiful in Nature must die ; but it has 
been so ordained, and it is best not to think about 
it, for it only makes sadness." 

"To-morrow will be Sunday — how shall we 
amuse ourselves f " I ask. 

" Oh, do let us take a walk up White Brook," 
exclaims Mrs. Davis, " and see the wild flowers, 
and the wee trout in those lovely clear pools. It is 
perfect up there, and much more human than going 
after bear with Peter Coull." 

" By Jove ! " replied Napoleon, " I had forgotten 
all about the bear." 

" Unless you permit me to retire, I shall not be up 
in time to join you on the morrow for the delight- 
ful little trip ; if you will pardon me, I will take 
the big red candlestick. Bonne nuit ! " 



128 




THE FOURTH DAY 

>OW did you ever discover such an 
interesting spot as that we visited to- 
day?" asked Napoleon, inhaling his 
cigarette on the veranda after our 
early Sunday tea. " One would imagine he was 
beside some tumbling brook in the midst of the 
Rockies. " 

" It is a rough place up there, is it not ? Ned 
and I, you know, in our Sunday rambles are al- 
ways exploring the country around Red Camp. 
Did you like the pretty little wild flowers ? It is 
rather early for a great variety, but the mari- 
golds were beautiful and looked lovely in all their 
golden color. I am sure the perfume of the sweet- 
scented Maianthemum pleased you. And you must 
have admired the peculiar shade of the twisted 
stalk, and the Viola olandaP 

" They were all so beautiful and interesting, Mrs. 
Davis, that I shall long to have you take me again 
to the enchanted spot." 
" Yes ; later perhaps we can go, and it will then 
129 



be even more interesting, for a number of other 
varieties will be in bloom, and we can see the yel- 
low butterflies flitting about from one flower to 
another, inhaling their fragrance, while the bees 
are gathering their sweets." 

" If you would like to take a tramp, Heck, come 
with me some day and hunt the showy lady's-slip- 
per — the most beautiful of all the orchid family 
— and the mountain-laurel. They both grow in 
Maine, so I suppose they must be up here some- 
where, although I have never seen them." 

"When you find out, Ned, that they exist in 
Quebec, I will then gladly go with you in quest of 
the prize." 

" Do you believe in the transmigration of souls, 
Napoleon ? " 

" No ; of course I do not." 

" Well, if ever I am changed into a flower I hope 
it will be a beautiful white niphetos." 

"Why ? " asks Mrs. Davis. 

" Because it is my favorite flower, and inhaling 
its fragrance is like breathing the air of heaven. I 
could not live long, for they soon wither and fade." 

" Oh, I should prefer the everlasting," exclaims 
Mrs. Davis, laughing, " for then I could never die ! 

' Sweet rose, thy root is ever in its grave, 
And thou must die.' n 

" Well, if some fairy should will that I must 
130 



exist as a flower," says Napoleon, "I suppose it 
would probably be something tall and dreadful, 
like the sunflower." 

"Do you know, Heck, that sunflowers are al- 
ways much admired by country maids ? " 

" No chaffing, Ned. Oh, I have had a charming 
day ! " exclaims Napoleon. " And when I think 
how the little trout we saw were darting about in 
those clear pools my mind dwells on the morrow, 
for then we fish again. The twilight dews are 
falling, so let us go in." 



131 




THEEE WEEKS LATER 

>HREE weeks have passed, and many a 
salmon has been entered in the score- 
book at Red Camp. Mr. Heckscher 
has killed his bear; Mrs. Davis, a 
forty-four-pound salmon : and now the little party, 
standing at the landing, is about to start forth on 
its last day's sport together, for Napoleon, having 
decided to remain, is to join me on the morrow in 
the club fishing. As the sky is bright and the 
breeze fair, we are all up early for our morning's 
sport. It is my turn to fish in front of the camp. 
Pushing from the landing, the canoe is soon rest- 
ing at the head of one of the best pools on the river 
for late fishing. 

" Hello ! there 's one already," exclaims James. 
" Look — what a whirl ! Be careful, Mr. Davis ; 
the water is clear. About thirty feet will reach 
him." 

Casting toward the shore until the thirty feet 
are out, I send the No. 3 double Black Dose . 
straight to the spot. A splash, and he is on. 
132 



" How splendidly he took the fly ! " exclaims 
James. 

" Bravo ! bravo ! " shouts William. " The first 
cast and — a salmon ! " 

Up and down stream, across, now back again, 
all kinds of antics does he kick in the bright, cool 
morning until we have him lying on the bank — a 
thirty-three-pounder. Paddling out again, the 
killick is dropped in about the same place; but 
although we see a large fish rise, I fail to lure 
him, as he probably prefers to continue his morn- 
ing slumber. Drifting a short distance down- 
stream, a few casts are made to the right, when, 
suddenly, something enormous rises from the bot- 
tom, and, as it disappears beneath the surface, the 
delicate dark leader is carefully watched. Gradu- 
ally it begins to sink. Now the hook is sent home, 
for I know the fly has been seized. 

" Good Lord, what a salmon ! " cry the men, as 
his broad tail strikes the water — a forty-five- 
pounder sure. 

" Keep the canoe as it is, James, until you know 
what he intends to do. I cannot move him. 
Quick! up-stream. He 's off! Whew! a run of 
forty yards without a stop. There he jumps! 
Faster, James ! " I cry. " He is among the rocks ! 
The leader will surely be cut." 

" Give him the butt, sir, and turn him, if you 
can." 

133 



The rod bends and "He has gone!" I cry. "No, 
he is on ; he is coming back ! " Down the river he 
rushes, darting across the current and disappearing 
to sulk in thirty feet of water. 

Dropping below the fish, we cross to the other 
side, and, paddling up-stream, hold the canoe in 
readiness beside the ledge. 

" To win thy smile I speed from shore to shore, 
While Hope's sweet voice is heard in ev'ry breeze." 

"He can't stand that strain much longer, Mr. 
Davis." 

" Nor I, either, James. Look at the tip ; it is three 
feet under water." 

" Don't let up, sir ; he will soon give in. Yes, 
there he comes now ! " 

Slowly the rod is raised, and, looking down into 
the depths of that deep pool, I see a bright form 
boring steadily downward. 

" Now he 's coming up, sir ; pull a little harder." 

Gradually the huge fish comes to the surface 
and, with a tremendous leap, tries for the current ; 
but the struggle has been too severe : the spark of 
life has fled. So, gently drawing this beautiful 
creature toward me, I thrill with joy when the 
river-goddess finds a safe resting-place in my 
canoe. 

" Have you ever seen so large a salmon, James I " 
134 



Harrison, the River-goddess, and William 



" None that was killed with a fly, sir ; but my 
father tells of one which was speared many years 
ago weighing over sixty pounds." 

" Well, let us go to the house now and see if this 
one has lived luxuriously ; for should Dame Fortune 
be kind and bring the scale down to the fifty- 
pound notch my ambition in life will be fulfilled 
and my happiness complete. Lift gently, James 
— forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty pounds ! " I cry. 
"Hurrah! the spring marks fifty, and the fair 
one's broad dark train still sweeps the ground." 

Then, laying her upon a fern-covered bier, we 
tenderly bear her to the dining-room and gaze 
with admiration and regre't on the splendor of her 
raiment and symmetry of form. Even Mixer 
realizes that something unusual has happened as 
he stands in the awed presence. Presently Mrs. 
Davis and Napoleon come in for breakfast, each 
with a fine big fish ; but at the sight of this beau- 
tiful river-goddess both exclaim : 

" Ned, did you kill that salmon ! " 

" Yes ; and now, after trying to do it for thirteen 
years, I wish you were the guilty ones instead of 
me." 

This fish was hooked just before seven o'clock 
and landed soon after. Its weight, at the Casca- 
pedia station several hours later, was fifty and one 
half pounds. 

I will not weary my readers with the story of my 
135 



other large salmon, taken the following year. It 
weighed fifty-one and one half ponnds fifteen hours 
after it had been killed. The salmon was hooked 
about eight-thirty o'clock at night, but owing to 
the lateness of the hour we were unable to gaff the 
fish until a few minutes after nine. 

It was most unfortunate that the scales in camp 
were not heavy enough to have weighed these two 
large salmon, for they must have lost two pounds 
or more before they arrived at the station. 

They were entered in the score-book as weighing 
fifty-one and fifty-two pounds. 



136 




THE CLUB WATEK 

?0W much wilder the scenery is up here 
than in the lower part of the river ! " 
remarks Napoleon, as we pole along 
in Indian fashion on our way to De 
Winton's, one of the most treacherous pools on the 
club water, owing to the great number of sharp 
rocks just below the surface, like pinnacles on 
some lofty cathedral. 

" Yes, it is wild here, and that is the reason I 
love to fish this part of the river. Well may it be 
called the ' Devil's Trap,' and fortunate indeed is 
the angler who can boast success in this weird spot. 
Here we are, Heck, at De "Winton's. Jump into 
my boat with me, and we will sally forth to win 
fresh laurels. Cast now toward the trees, just 
where the rapids commence, and as soon as thou 
hookest a salmon, pull gently, while the men, with 
sockets turned, will pole to the foot of yonder 
ledge, and if all goes well thy fish will lead 
easily." 
" But I think you had better show me the trick, 
137 



for I have never seen a salmon led thirty yards 
up-stream when first hooked." 

" With pleasure, if you like ; but should he re- 
verse the situation and lead us a merry dance 
down the river through the ' Devil's Lane,' hold fast 
to the canoe when we strike the rapids, for we are 
loaded heavily, and I care not for a wetting to-day." 

Away goes the small Black Dose, and, falling 
lightly on the ripple, is quickly seized. 

" Hurry with the killick, William ; he is leading 
finely. If we can reach the ledge there will be no 
danger." 

" How wonderful the way you lead him ! " ex- 
claims Napoleon. 

"Do not breathe, Heck; he may turn at any 
moment. Yes, by Jove, he is getting suspicious ! 
Take the paddle quick, James ! Yes, I thought so ; 
there he goes. Now for a run." 

" Are you all right 1 " I ask, as I observe Napo- 
leon lying on his stomach across the thwart, while 
I, slipping from the seat, rest upon my knees as 
we go flying down the rapids. 

"I have been more comfortable," replies Napo- 
leon. " Do not look after me ; watch the salmon ! 
What splendid leaps he is making ! Shall we save 
him?" 

" I think so." 

Entering the second rapids, I manage to turn the 
fish a short distance down the run ; but before we 
138 



can stop the canoe the salmon has passed us on his 
way up-stream, rejoicing in having severed the 
leader. 

"Go, then," I cry, "and tell thy companions 
thou didst win a costly leader and fine feathers at 
the battle of De Winton's." 

" Oh, what a shame ! " exclaims Napoleon. " How 
did it happen ? " 

" Cut by one of the little devils beneath," I re- 
ply, " which go rolling along during the freshet." 

Another salmon is hooked and lost in the same 
pool. Wearying of such sport, we pull up traps 
and proceed leisurely up the river to find some 
shady spot where we may enjoy our midday meal 
and recover from the morning's disappointment. 

" How would you like a trout for luncheon to- 
day, Napoleon ?" 

" Nothing you could give me would please me 
more ; but how can we get one I " 

" Easy enough," I replied. " Stand on the edge 
of yonder ledge and cast a little to the right of the 
eddy, and before the fire with which we shall cook 
him is kindled you shall pull one forth which shall 
surpass in size ' twenty-one inches and whose 
belly,' like Izaak Walton's trout, ' shall look some 
part of it as yellow as a marigold, a part of it as 
white as a lily.' " 

Napoleon casts and quickly lands a four-pounder. 

" Did I not tell you 1 What would good Wal- 
139 



ton have said, Heck, if he could have known such 
sport as this 1 Many more of this same size could 
he lay before him simply for the casting on this 
ledge, and then indeed might his song in praise 
of angling well be sung : 

' Oh, gallant fisher life, 

It is the best of any ; 

'T is full of pleasure, 

Void of strife, 

' And 't is beloved of many.'" 

" Well," says Napoleon, " Izaak's trout and pike 
may have been well cooked and his ale well brewed, 
but the savory smell of this four-pounder under 
the blue sky, with a slender alder for the gridiron, 
the ledge for our table, the rushing river for our 
nectar, is more to my liking than any indoor feast." 

" Nothing could be more delightful or have more 
charm than lunching on the bank of this swiftly 
running stream. But do you not think, Heck, that 
a few drops of this old Kentucky would improve 
the river a bit and induce you to give us some of 
the old Elizabethan stanzas that "Walton quotes ? " 

" Here are two of them," replies Napoleon, " but 
if I get them wrong you must pardon me. 

1 " Come live with me, and be my love, 
And we will all the pleasures prove 
That hills and valleys, dales and fields, 
And all the steepy mountain yields." 
140 



The Slide 



' " If all the world and love were young, 
And truth in ev'ry shepherd's tongue, 
These pretty pleasures might me move 
To live with thee, and be thy love." ' " 

" Well sung, Heck. You have amused the men 
as well as me — they are all looking at you in 
admiration. Now let us go down to the Slide * for 
the evening's fishing." 

" ' T was there at twilight " we " stole, 

When the first star announced the night 
For " those " who claimed our inmost soul," 
To angle " by that soothing light." 

Napoleon has taken two fish — twenty-nine and 
twenty-four pounds. As it is getting quite late, 
and difficult to see the fly when it alights on the 
pool, he asks me to fish the last drop. I put on a 
large Silver Gray and send it whisking into the 
darkness. The water parts, a vision of beauty 
appears, a silvery salmon leaps forth, the sparkling 
drops falling from his body, like some wild spirit 
moving across the water. As the pale moon rose 
up slowly above the green firs on the mountain- 
side and cast its beams on our frail little craft 
floating quietly on that dark, shadowy pool, we 
realized the grandeur of our surroundings and the 
fascination of the art. 

1 Where part of a cliff had fallen and slid into the river. 

141 



" Take the rod, Heck, and play the fish." 

"No, no," he cried; "I am perfectly content. 
Win the fight, for such a picture will never appear 
again." 

As we go rushing down the stream the bright 
silvery streak shoots forward in the shade of the 
dark mountain. Up-stream it glistens, bursting 
forth in the bright moonlight ; then back again it 
speeds, to be lost as suddenly in the darkness. 
What frantic attempts to disappear ! But at last, 
wearying of its efforts, this wonderful wild spirit 
is finally conquered, and lifting a thirty-six-pound 
salmon into the canoe, we gaze upon its beauty in 
the moonlit pool. 

" This is the dream of salmon-fishing ! " exclaims 
Napoleon, as we paddle toward camp. 



142 




CONCLUSION 

WEEK at Middle Camp was delight- 
fully spent cruising up and down the 
river in the company of my friend. 
Ever ready for the early morning's 
fishing, content to rest during the heat of the day, 
to lunch in some cool place on the bank, and 
always pleasant and kind to his canoemen, he was 
the type of a true angler. With what joy he wel- 
comed the words of the canoemen, " Time to go 
fishing, Mr. Davis!" Jumping up at once and 
lighting a cigarette, he would soon have us drifting 
down-stream toward some favorite pool, where in 
the twilight many a big salmon was lifted into the 
canoe as we heard the plaintive melody of the white- 
throated sparrow coming from the dark forest. 

But all joys must have an ending. Bidding 
farewell to the enchanted spot, we enter the canoes 
for a ten-mile run down the river to Eed Camp, 
where Mrs. Davis joyfully greets us. 

Our fishing trip is over : the day of leaving has 
arrived. As the train rolls up to bear us away, 
longing eyes are turned toward the distant 
mountains. 

143 



